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#but it doesn’t matter because my x ray was clear so who gives a fuck
autisticlenaluthor · 4 months
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i feel like the universe is playing one big practical joke on me
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I'm sorry if it's ignorant but i just wanted to say what came to my mind when i saw the rescheduled show post and saw some people/larries complaining about that. I know louis' team are not competent but louis broke his arm, we don't know if he needs surgery or not, he probably wanted to continue with the show and was probably accessing the situation with his arm and then make the decisions. Also there's the availability of the venue after deciding on rescheduling, among so many factors and it is also common sense to know or have an inkling after seeing the x-rays. I've never experienced buying tickets and traveling for a show so maybe I don't get it but it's not like he's cancelling just for the sake of it, i mean he had performed with a broken elbow before, it's not like he wouldn't have tried everything to not reschedule but his health is more important! Maybe that was the reason he posted those x-rays too because he knew people were gonna be disappointed and complain. I am sorry, English is not my 1st language so i may not be able to convey my thoughts properly.
Thank God I have not seen any of those posts.
I think that in the last two years, the way that the biggest Larries view Louis has veered closer and closer to annoyance and disappointment, that he’s not playing up to their head cannons, he’s not fulfilling their fantasies like Henry sometimes does, and that he has disproved their prediction of wanting to stay in the background and letting Harry shine.
Louis’ success certainly makes them look silly and foolish. It’s pretty clear that Louis is his own person, wants success for himself, and couldn’t give a fuck about what Harry is doing.
Two other points.
I think that Sony‘s and Irving Azoff‘s dominance in the industry reassured Larries that Harry was always going to dominate, that their siding with Harry was always going to win. in other words, they wanted to pick the winning side. When Louis has a chance to shine, and his popularity gains fans for himself, Larries lose their position as fandom bullies.
They tried to bully Louies out of the fandom. They made reasonable Larries who loved Louis feel so uncomfortable that they no longer are posting One Direction or Louis content. They censored criticism of Harry Styles from the fandom completely, to such an extent that fans feel obligated to defend him for his greed.
Two. It’s very clear that Louis’ new songs are not about a longterm, satisfactory, continuous romantic relationship. No matter how hard they try, Larries can’t make Louis’ new album about Harry. It’s very clear that the only thing they share these days is the industry that they both work in.
Louis doesn’t want any part of their bad romance. He blocked the biggest update account because it was worth it to him.
Larries are angry about it. Their jokes about Louis’ bad habits, his bad friends, his bad image, his physical pain, his emotional trauma, are veiled expressions of frustration and anger. Their fantasy lives in their heads. They are becoming the butt of jokes, even amongst themselves.
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dreamcatcherrs · 3 years
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what catches their eyes/attracts them?; mcyt x reader
+ this is in no way factual information, only my very weird and specific opinions :)
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dream:
free-spirited people
someone who isn't afraid to speak their mind
confidence, to a certain extent
someone he can be loud with
someone who will wake up in the middle of the night with him to go on a car drive to nowhere
the colour blue (dnf👀)
clean and fresh-looking clothes
satin fabric
big height difference
the smell of citrus fruits
large smiles
silver jewellery
small hands
smart people who aren't afraid to show it
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george:
calm, laid back people
someone quiet, but still able to have a laugh
very friendly vibes - even when first meeting them
the colour blue (literally the only interesting colour he's able to see lol)
bright eyes
lip gloss
flower print
slightly shy people who are actually easy to interact with once you start a conversation with them
pastel-coloured nails, not too long
pink-tinted lips
ponytails
the smell of vanilla
puppy eyes
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sapnap:
energetic people
someone who can hype up their friends no matter the situation
the colour red
like, a bloody red
soft skin
full lips
loose shirts over skin-tight tops
when shoelaces have a different colour on each shoe
corsets
a very subtle scent of perfume
thigh highs
someone who just wants to enjoy life with the people they're surrounded by
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badboyhalo:
large, bright smiles that spread up to your eyes
freckles
button noses
rose-gold jewellery
french manicures
bangs
slightly shy people
genuinely sweet people
not the fake type that talks shit about people behind their backs and then will compliment them a few seconds after
someone who when they enter a room feels like a breath of fresh air to everyone else
someone completely selfless
the smell of lavender
shiny hair
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technoblade:
people who aren't afraid to take the lead
glasses
intellectual people
like, for example people who know a lot of random stuff from a bunch of different things that they're interested in
or also just book smart people
slightly clumsy people (finds it cute)
gold jewellery
someone with some mystery to them
refreshing scents, like clean laundry or shampoo
cat eyes (eyeliner)
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wilbur soot:
long legs
chokers
shy people
someone who gets flustered easily
glasses + thin bangs
the colours brown and beige together
baggy, comfy clothes
the smell of newly baked cookies
beanies
the kind of person that makes him feel like he can always talk to them - someone he can feel safe with
birth marks
accents
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jschlatt:
smart people
the way they speak is just so clean without even noticing
fox eyes
people who aren't afraid to wear sweatpants in public
generally just someone who isn't afraid to do, say and wear whatever they want
someone who stands for what they think and have the balls to say it when needed
nose rings
simple yet flattering pieces of jewellery
long nails
someone who he can stay up all night with and never get tired of them
high heels
hip dips
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corpse husband:
fishnets, of course
someone who give 0 fucks about what everyone else thinks of them
unique people
wether that be physical features or straight up the personality, it draws him in
chokers
chunky, black sneakers or boots
someone who can make him happy without even trying
a positive aura for the most part
as in he doesn't want to be surrounded by someone who’s negative or dragging everyone else down with them
the colour yellow
rings - lots of them
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karl jacobs:
a walking ray of sunshine, basically
tbh, karl has a couple of things in common with what corpse is attracted to;
positive energy, uniqueness and rings
a palette filled with bright colours
like, almost rave style colours
that could be clothes, makeup, hair, nails, accessories
chunky, white shoes
selfless people
someone who as each day goes by becomes more charming to him
he likes the smell of candles from bath and body works, as we all know
the colour purple
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skeppy:
big eyes
someone who’s able to make him laugh without even trying
tooth gaps
someone who has very playful, innocent vibes to them
and someone who can take jokes and pranks
people who walk confidently
the smell of strawberries
long eyelashes
someone who collects things others usually wouldn’t
someone who is very respectful to others
a mix between really comfy clothes and really feminine clothes
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fundy:
someone who comes across as “different” than others
and don't you dare think of ✨I’m not like other girls✨ (I know you did -_-)
he just thinks people who think and act very different than others are very interesting
beauty marks
nicely shaped eyebrows
someone who finds mystical things interesting
fox eyeliner (yes, I put this in here because: furry)
someone who has unusual, yet surprisingly good taste in music
people who are constantly warm
red lips
the colour light brown, almost beige-like
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quackity:
someone who gets his humour
someone like him, but more quiet and slightly shy
especially when on screen in front of an audience
sliver necklaces
the smell of flowers
dark, extreme eyeliner
loose clothes
freckles
piercings
someone who teases others and who can handle to be teased by others
the colour dark blue
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punz:
the colour grey
a fresh fashion sense
yet still very comfortable fits
messy buns
someone who he just knows will be a cool person before he even talks to them
someone who just has that kinda vibe, y’know?
glossy lips
independent people
someone responsible and caring to others
tattoos
navel piercings
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awesamdude:
cropped jackets
the colour neon green
hair put up in a bun
someone with a free nature
someone who is a complete wild card
like, someone who will jump over a fence just to get closer to a bunny they think they saw on the other side of it
loose strands of hair
clear nail polish
cargo pants
the smell of chocolate
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slimecicle:
people who have comfort items
someone who knows random facts that no one else usually knows
people who have a unique way of thinking
passionate people
and when they talk about what they’re passionate about, they talk for hours
shorter hair
sweet and nutty scents
natural beauty
fluffy hair
honest people
but not brutally honest
the smell of coconut
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eret:
eye glitter/shimmer
silky clothes that shine in the moonlight
platform boots/heels
long, flowy dresses
someone who does whatever they want
and who doesn't like being told what to do by others
the colours pink and dark purple
the smell of the ocean
someone who already knows how to live their life
stretch marks
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foolish:
low-cut jeans
someone very silly who knows how to have a good laugh
someone very supportive of their friends
curtain bangs
long-sleeved sweatshirts
someone who loves food
puppy eyes
straight, white teeth
someone who is willing to help others in need
someone who doesn't talk badly about others behind their back
someone who knows what they want
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jack manifold:
confidence
white, wide-legged pants
the colour light blue or just pure white
people who are very easy-going and fun to be around
someone who can fit into and understand anyones humour
an open-minded person who likes to hear from other people’s point of views when they have a different opinion than them
butterfly patterns
crop tops
oversized t-shirts
hair beads
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tommy:
people who are just as loud as him
and at the same time knows when to be serious
the colours yellow and grey
people who are kind to everyone
creative eyeliner
fluffy hair
people who can get so lost in their own world, they almost forget about their surroundings
colourful accessories
someone who isn't afraid to be who they are
someone who has many passions and loves to talk about them
oversized hoodies
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tubbo:
hoodies layered over skirts or dresses
frilly socks
people who are very adventurous, and wants to make their life as interesting as possible!
someone who can help him overcome some of his fears
charm bracelets
cute habits
the colours yellow and orange
dimples
the smell of almond milk and honey
people who twirl their hair unknowingly when bored or unfocused
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ranboo:
someone who looks intimidating at first (he thinks people like that are cool as fuck)
but then is, like, the sweetest person he’s ever met
loves someone who can speak fluent sarcasm, just like him
he likes sass
glassy skin
fingerless gloves
people who act cocky for the fun of it
but actually don’t care about winning or losing or proving anything
simplistic earring placements
people who have hidden talents, and the more you get to know them, the more talents are revealed
people who don't gossip
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tag list✰
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jaehyunfirstlove · 3 years
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You decide you’re ready to have a baby. The catch? You’re not seeing anyone at the moment. Enter your best friend, Jeong Jaehyun. Will he be the answer to your dilemma?
Pairing: best friend!Jaehyun x f.reader
Genre: best friends to fwb to lovers, fluff, angst, smut (18+ only)
Warnings: mentions of infertility, pregnancy and childbirth, sperm donors, IVF (in vitro fertilization), fertility drugs, mood swings, fingering, unprotected sex, cum play, nipple play, breeding kink, oral sex (f.receiving), dirty talk, pregnant sex, rough sex
Word count: 10.6k
Taglist: @jaehyunnie77​ @mrg-jjh​ @keeach​ (send me a message if you want to be tagged in future fics)
A/N: this was only meant to be a short fic but it morphed into this monstrosity. I tried to tag for everything but if I missed anything please let me know. Inspired by the fact that Jaehyun wanted to be a teen dad (but they are not teens in this story, just thought I’d make that clear :) Also please excuse my unimaginative name for the baby, I’m terrible at coming up with names lol
Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional so please excuse any inconsistencies.
“So what have you got planned for today?” your best friend, Jaehyun, asked you as he took a sip of his coffee, shielding his eyes from the sun’s rays coming through the window of the cafe.
It was your weekly Saturday brunch, at which Jaehyun would show up, nine times out of ten, hungover, wearing dark sunglasses, a baseball cap, a black t-shirt and sweats. There was never a deviation from this outfit, even on the times when he came not hungover.
“Oh not much, just an appointment at the fertility clinic this afternoon.”
Jaehyun paused, as you took a sip of your latte. You couldn’t see the look in his eyes through the sunglasses but his fork had stopped midway to his mouth. It hovered in the air, scrambled eggs sliding off of it and plopping onto the plate below.
“The where?” he asked, tipping his head to look at you above the top of his sunglasses.
“Fertility clinic. Looking into getting a sperm donor.”
The matter-of-fact way you were saying everything seemed to shock him, his fork still not moving towards his mouth or back onto the plate.
“Excuse me, a sperm donor?”
You put your coffee cup down, and sighed. “I don’t know why you’re so shocked, I told you before I wanted to have a baby.”
“I thought you were joking!”
“Well I wasn’t!” you don’t know why you were being so indignant, maybe because all you’d heard from everyone around you, from your parents to your doctor to the lady that sold you pretzels from a street cart, was negative. You shouldn’t have a baby without a partner, was the main point of contention, but how was that going to happen if you weren’t seeing anyone, and hadn’t had a serious relationship in almost a year.
“But a sperm donor, Y/N?” he asked, after mulling over what you just said.
“Yeah? What’s wrong with it?” you countered. You were so sick of everyone around you criticizing your plan.
“I don’t know, what if he’s like, a serial killer or something?”
“They do psychiatric assessments on everyone who donates.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have an undiagnosed illness-”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Jaehyun!” you’d had it, letting out an exasperated huff, “Do you have a better idea? Do you want to be my sperm donor?”
You weren’t at all serious, you were just mainly upset and unfortunately, taking it out on him, but he actually sat back in his chair, eyebrows raised, as if he were contemplating it.
“Anyway, forget it. I don’t need your approval. I just hoped that you’d support me, of all people.” You couldn’t help but pout. He was your best friend and he’d stuck with you when no one else had. You may have said you didn’t need his approval but deep down you wanted him to be on your side.
He leaned forward, took his sunglasses off and looked you in the eye. “Of course I support you,” he said sincerely. “If this is what you want, then I’m with you one hundred percent of the way.”
You smiled, your heart feeling lighter, and just as you took a sip of your latte he said the one thing that would complicate your life forever.
“But I get to be that sperm donor.”
You spluttered, almost choking on your latte. “I wasn’t being at all serious, Jaehyun,” you chuckled nervously, but one look at his face and you could see he was being completely serious.
“I just don’t like the idea of some stranger being the father of your child,” he said quietly, looking down at his plate of food while he said it, “might as well be me, right?” He looked up at you hopefully.
You didn’t know what to say. This was your best friend, the one you’d grown up with, the one you’d catch tadpoles with, the one you’d drag to the playground with you, the one you told all your innermost secrets to. The one who knew you best. Didn’t it make sense then, that he would be the one to share this with you, in the end? You looked at his face; open, sincere, beautiful. You knew he was attractive, with the trail of broken hearts he’d leave in his wake, but you hadn’t really looked at him in that way before. Suddenly he was a new person to you, and now you didn’t know how to feel.
“Jaehyun, I-” you rubbed your hands together nervously, still unsure of what to say, “it’s a big thing, you know? This will change the rest of your life.”
He nodded, but there was no trace of hesitation in his actions. In fact, he looked as sure as anything. “Yeah that’s a given. But I’ve thought about it and I’m ready.”
“Jaehyun, you’ve literally thought about it for, like, the few minutes we’ve been sitting here.”
He smiled, “Actually I’ve thought about it for a long time.”
“About being a sperm donor?”
He laughed. “No, not specifically a sperm donor. But it’s a start,” he shrugged. “So what do I have to do?”
---
Jaehyun accompanied you to the appointment at the fertility clinic, where they outlined the plan and what was required of the two of you. It didn’t sound too bad, but you did find that having Jaehyun there to support you was really helpful. Every time the doctor explained something that made you nervous you would look over at him and he would smile confidently at you, sometimes squeezing your hand if you looked particularly concerned.
It was the fertility drugs they gave you, that threw your world into chaos. They had warned you of the side effects but you didn’t think it would be this bad. Your mood swung back and forth like a pendulum, one moment you were happy, the next you were crying into your cereal. You were irritable more than you had ever been in your life, and constantly snapped at every little thing. Not to mention that your breasts were sore and you had nausea, making you feel like you were pregnant already. You felt bad for Jaehyun when he was around for your mood swings and irritable moments, but he handled it much better than you thought he would. He’d give you your space when you needed it, but also sit by your side when you didn’t want to be alone. You found yourself thinking about how he would be as a father, but then you would remember that he was just the sperm donor.
One day, when he was sitting beside you on the couch, rubbing your back after you’d cried over your coffee order being wrong, you ended up asking him how much he wanted to be involved.
“We didn’t talk about the ‘after’,” you said, still sniffling. He stopped rubbing your back and looked at you.
“What do you want the ‘after’ to look like?” He asked, his tone level and gentle.
You had visions of Jaehyun rocking the baby to sleep, of Jaehyun seeing the baby walk for the first time, of Jaehyun teaching your child how to ride a bike, piano lessons, soccer games, first day of school. The perfect family. Except he wasn’t your husband, he wasn’t even your boyfriend. You didn’t know what to ask of him.
“I don’t know,” you whispered. He went back to rubbing your back.
“I’ll be as involved as you want me to be,” he said softly, “my only request is that I get to be a part of their life.”
That sounded fair, you thought. This was certainly going to be more complicated than getting a stranger as a sperm donor.
---
You went through several cycles of IVF, but none had been successful and you were losing hope. Not to mention the fertility drugs were really taking a toll on you, and the doctor had recommended taking a break. You were devastated, seeing it as the end of your dream, no matter how much the doctor reassured you that it wasn’t.
“There has to be another solution,” you pleaded at one appointment. Jaehyun hadn’t accompanied you and you felt yourself falling apart without his presence.
“Well, of course there’s the surefire way,” the doctor shrugged.
“What’s that? I’ll do anything!” you were hopeful once again at the doctor’s words.
“Regular sexual intercourse.”
Of course, you thought bitterly. You couldn’t help but think this was society punishing you for doing this without a husband. Undeterred, you resolved to discuss it with Jaehyun.
---
The look on Jaehyun’s face when you broached the subject was one you had never seen on him before. It was a mixture of shock, terror, resignation, and… something else, almost like acceptance, as if this were the natural course of things.
You resolved not to make it weird, it was just sex after all, and you would get a baby out of it, and that was the most important thing. However, your palms still got sweaty at the thought of it, your heart racing imagining him naked. You’d gone swimming with him plenty of times, went on beach outings often, and you realized you’d always avert your eyes from his bare chest. You figured you were just doing it to be polite, but you had no trouble looking at other men’s chests (you were only human, after all). You shook your head of your thoughts, while waiting patiently for him to agree or disagree to your request.
“I know it’s weird,” you began, when he still hadn’t said anything, “but I promise it won’t change anything in our relationship.” You needed him to agree, and at this point you would say anything to convince him. He looked at you thoughtfully, before he nodded.
“Okay, I’m in.”
---
You’d been keeping track of your cycle and had the days you were ovulating marked on your calendar, which you had shared with Jaehyun. It was agreed that he would come to your place after work, where you would have sex in the hopes of making a baby.
The first night you were nervous, pacing your room as you waited for him to come over. When the doorbell rang you literally jumped out of your skin. When you opened the door you were relieved to see that he was nervous too, although he tried his best to hide it. He joked around with you, trying to keep the mood light, and you had to admit you appreciated it. But when you got to the bedroom, you both went quiet. Jaehyun stood at one end of the room and you stood at the other, the bed looming between you.
“Do you want me to turn around while you get undressed?” he asked awkwardly, and you realized you hadn’t thought through the details.
“Um, yeah, sure,” you replied, and when he turned around you hastily undressed and jumped under the covers. “Done,” you advised, and he turned around. He didn’t make a move though, just looking at you pointedly, until you realized and turned your head away. Once he was done undressing you felt him lift the covers and get into the bed with you, and you couldn’t stop your heart from hammering in your chest.
“Y/N,” he said softly, because you still hadn’t turned back to him. “Can I touch you?”
You bit your lip, still not looking his way, and nodded. His touch made you jolt, even though his hand was warm, the electricity you felt made all your nerve endings feel like they were on fire.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his hand moving tentatively across your stomach. You nodded but you realized you were panting already, and he had barely touched you. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like,” he suddenly whispered in your ear, and then he was kissing your neck.
You weren’t prepared for the intimacy, you had really only thought about the intercourse part. You hadn’t prepared yourself for the kissing, and the touching, and how he was so good at making you feel good. You felt like you weren’t supposed to enjoy it, that it was supposed to be “just sex” because you were friends and you weren’t doing this because you loved each other, you were only doing it to have a baby. But the more he touched you, the more he kissed you, the more you fell under his spell. You felt like you should tell him to stop, to just get on with it, but you knew he was doing it to get you nice and wet and therefore more comfortable to take him.
His kisses started to move along your jaw, towards your lips, and when he was finally there, his lips on yours, you felt a panic bubble up in your chest. It was too intimate, too much for someone who wasn’t yours. You pulled away, and he looked at you in surprise.
“No kissing on the lips,” you managed to say, maybe that would be enough to keep it less intimate, you told yourself. He nodded without saying a word, his hand coming up to your breast.
“Is it okay if I touch you here?” he asked, his eyes on yours. You thought for a moment and decided it was okay, and when you nodded he cupped your breast tentatively, all the while watching you for your reaction. When you didn’t pull away he squeezed gently, rubbing your nipple with his thumb.
You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a moan, because everything he was doing was making you feel so good. He kept watching your reaction, and when he was satisfied that you were reacting favorably he got bolder, his hand slipping down between your legs.
You yelped when he touched you there, your legs involuntarily closing and trapping his hand. He froze, looking at you with wide eyes.
“Sorry,” you apologized, flushing with embarrassment, “reflex reaction.”
“It’s okay,” he said softly, as you slowly opened up your legs again. He moved his hand slowly, gently, just rubbing the inside of your thigh. “You can relax, Y/N, I promise I won’t hurt you.” His words were soft, his tone gentle, and it did wonders to calm and soothe you.
You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he reached tentatively with his finger, just lightly touching your folds. The electricity you felt when he first touched you came back with a vengeance, and you almost melted right into the bed. Your reaction encouraged him though, and he pressed his finger further in, rubbing your wetness around. When he was satisfied with the state of your arousal he got into position between your legs, placing the tip of his cock at your entrance. He paused, looking you in the eye, gently stroking your cheek.
“Ready?” he asked gently, “I’ll go slow.”
You nodded vigorously, to be honest the anticipation was killing you and you were very much aroused, wanting him to just get on with it. When he pushed into you though, you realized you should really be careful what you wished for. The feeling of him stretching you was almost too much, every inch he pushed in agonizingly slow amplifying your arousal to a dizzying degree. By the time he was seated all the way inside you you were panting, almost out of breath already.
“Okay?” he asked, through gritted teeth. You could tell he was holding back for dear life, but he purposely went achingly slow to make sure you were comfortable.
“Yes,” you said, having adjusted to his size, “you can move now.” Your pussy clenched involuntarily around him and he hissed.
“Don’t do that, Y/N,” he groaned, “I won’t last.”
“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, and as if to get you back he snapped his hips, making you cry out.
“Fuck!” you screamed, and that definitely encouraged him, and he set a pace, fucking you into the mattress. You felt your toes curl, a familiar knot building in your stomach. Once again, you thought, you felt like you shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as you were, it was more important for him to come inside you. “Come on, baby, come for me,” you whispered in his ear, hoping the dirty talk would encourage him.
“Almost there,” he grunted, and as much as you tried not to enjoy it, the way he was drilling into you felt too good. You bit your lip and grasped at the sheets, trying to keep your orgasm down, but he took it as a sign that you were about to come. He reached between you and thumbed your clit, and at that moment your orgasm exploded out of you without warning. He groaned as you clenched around him, finally spilling his seed inside you. You were dizzy, mind hazy from your orgasm, but you were content at the feeling of his cum inside you. He started to pull out, then stopped.
“Oh,” he said, and you looked up at him to see why he was saying that.
“What is it?” you asked.
“It’s leaking out of you,” he pointed down between your legs. You panicked.
“Well you’re not supposed to pull out right away!” you wrung your hands frantically, “push it back in!”
He looked at you incredulously, before looking down at his already softening cock, realizing it was useless at that point. So he just used his fingers, gathering up the cum that had leaked down and pushing it back into your pussy. You bit your lip again, because the more he pushed in, the more aroused you became, surprised that you weren’t oversensitive at this point. He must’ve noticed your reaction because he didn’t stop, pushing in further and further, in and out, faster and faster, until you were coming again, pussy pulsing around his fingers.
You took a deep breath to regulate your breathing, while he pulled his fingers out of you and sat back.
“Are you okay?” he asked, when you still lay there, unmoving.
“Yes,” you responded, staring up at the ceiling.
“Well, I guess I’ll get going,” he said awkwardly, when you didn’t say anything else.
You nodded, still staring up at the ceiling. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll be here.” He dressed without saying anything more and left the room.
---
He came over again the next night, and you repeated the same awkward scene from the night before. This continued for a few cycles, with no success, and again you were losing hope.
“Maybe there’s something wrong with me,” you said dejectedly one day. Jaehyun looked over at you, concern etched on his face.
“The doctor said you were fine,” he replied, attempting to soothe you.
“Maybe there’s something wrong with you then,” you huffed, but Jaehyun just shook his head.
“Y/N, they put us through a bunch of tests and said we’re both fine,” he put a hand on your knee to reassure you.
“Then why isn’t it working?” you lamented, on the verge of tears.
“Do you want my opinion?” he asked hesitantly. You looked up at him in surprise.
“Yeah, of course,” you replied, curious as to what he had to say.
“Well, I’ve been reading those links the doctor sent, and it said stress is a big factor,” he stated carefully, “I think you just need to relax, and let it happen.”
You were floored. On the one hand you were touched that he had actually read the links the doctor had sent (you had been too impatient to bother), on the other hand, what exactly did he mean by ‘letting it happen’?
“Let’s do things differently next time, what do you think?” he had a twinkle in his eye that was starting to alarm you.
“What do you have in mind?” you asked suspiciously.
“You’ll see.” He smiled, much too widely for your liking.
---
The next time came around and you were more nervous than you were the first night, and if this was his idea of making it more relaxed he was already failing miserably. When he showed up at your door though, you almost didn’t recognize him. 
Instead of a t-shirt and sweats, he was wearing a crisp white button-down and jeans that sat sexily on his hips. Instead of his hair flat and falling in his face he had it pulled back, with just a few strands falling over his forehead. He also smelled incredible, a musky scent that forever trapped you in his hold, and made you want him in every way he would let you.
He smiled at you, but not in the way a friend smiles at a friend, and when he leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek you almost passed out from the warmth of his lips and the intoxicating scent emanating from his skin. He walked past you to the bedroom, leaving you standing there with your mouth open and your underwear dampening.
When you finally collected yourself, you went upstairs to hear the bath running. You walked into the bathroom to see him drawing a bath, candles surrounding the tub, flower petals in the water, and the most luscious smelling bath bomb marinating in it.
“Jaehyun, what-” 
“Shh,” he put a finger to your lips, and even that act was so sensual you had to squeeze your legs together, “let me take care of you.” He reached down and turned off the water. “Get undressed and get in the bath, and I’ll come back and help you get relaxed.” He left the room and you did what he said, calling him back in once you were in the bath and the cloudy bubbly water reached the tops of your breasts.
He had such a calm and serene look on his face that it almost threw you off, but then he was taking your puff and squeezing body wash on it.
“May I?” he asked, and when you nodded he gently took your arm and ran the puff along it. He did the same with the other arm, and that simple act, along with the warmth of the bath water, did wonders to soothe you. You felt like you were floating, with the calming scents of the bath bomb, and his gentle touch. He started to run the puff along your neck and you bent your head back and sighed. Soon enough he was dipping below the surface of the water, running the puff between your breasts, and you sighed even deeper as he got lower, past your stomach, and lower still. The puff was forgotten, and now it was just his hand, reaching down between your legs. It all felt so good, you spread your legs even wider, wanting more.
“How does it feel?” he whispered, so close to your ear you shuddered.
“So good,” you couldn’t help but moan, and then his hand was there, cupping your pussy.
“I want to make you feel good, Y/N,” he purred, his voice like honey, “will you let me make you feel good?”
“Yes,” the word came out on a long exhale, as he plunged a finger between your folds, and you couldn’t help but fall apart. He fingered you until you came, water splashing all around you as you writhed in pleasure. When you were done he picked you up out of the bath, not caring that his clothes were getting wet, and carried you to the bed. You couldn’t care that you were probably soaking the bed, because his lips were on your neck, hot and urgent, leaving marks that you’d have trouble concealing the next day.
You pulled at his shirt, wanting it off already, and he obliged, throwing the damp fabric to a corner of the room. You rubbed your hands all over his chest, feeling the firm muscle there, then down to his abs. He groaned against your neck when you undid his belt and slipped your hand over his hardened cock.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he hissed, when you wrapped your hand around it and pumped.
“Don’t come yet,” you whispered, taking your hand away, opting instead to pull the rest of his jeans and boxers off. You wrapped your legs around him, encouraging him to enter you, but he pulled back slightly.
“Slow down,” he breathed, and you could feel him smiling against your neck, “this isn’t a race, Y/N,” he continued kissing down the column of your neck, down to your chest, “relax, and let me make you feel good.”
You finally relented, relaxing as he’d ordered, letting yourself melt into the mattress as he sucked on your skin. Your body was on fire, both from the heat of the bath you just had as well as the way his lips were ruining you. When he got down to your lower stomach you realized where he was headed, and instead of fighting the pleasure you were feeling you simply gave in. As soon as his wet tongue collided with your wet folds you let go, moaning wantonly at the feeling. Every sound you made spurred him on, every jerk and jolt of your body gave him the impetus to push you to the height of pleasure, until you were yanking at his hair and convulsing around his tongue.
“That was fucking hot, Y/N,” he almost growled, wiping at his chin as he moved to hover above you, “I almost came.”
“Don’t,” you panted, trying to catch your breath, “you need to come inside me.”
“You want it? Want my cum inside you, fill you up,” his voice was deep, intense, a tone you’d never heard from him, and certainly words you’d never heard from him, but it certainly was doing the job and making you very aroused.
“Oh god,” you exclaimed, unaware that dirty talk was something you liked. Your previous boyfriends hadn’t been this filthy, but you found you loved it.
“I’m gonna fuck you hard, and you’re gonna take all of my cum,” he continued, voice raspy, breath hot in your ear, “I’m gonna knock you the fuck up, and watch your belly grow with my baby.”
“Jaehyun!” you cried out, losing yourself completely. You grabbed a hold of his neck and pulled him down, and for a split second you saw his eyes grow wide as you smashed your lips against his, your no-kissing rule forgotten. He kissed you with the same passion and intensity that he ate you out with, and you wondered why you had ever put that no-kissing rule into place if he could make you feel like that with his lips. You moaned when his tongue entered your mouth, just as he slid his cock inside you.
This time you didn’t hold back, allowing yourself to feel everything. The way his cock slid in and out of you, the way the tip kept hitting that spot so deep inside you. The way his tongue moved in your mouth, the way his hands rubbed up and down your body, sometimes squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling his muscles move, and when you felt your orgasm start to build you dragged your nails against his skin.
“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna come,” he broke from the kiss to drop his head down to your chest, his thrusts getting harder but more erratic.
“Oh god, do it,” you panted, your orgasm about to burst out of you, “fill me up, baby, I want your cum so bad.”
That was enough to send him over the edge, and he pulled you flush against him as he came inside you, the particularly forceful thrusts triggering your own orgasm and making you clench around him. He let out a loud groan as you milked him, fingernails digging into his back.
When you were both done you held him against you, not wanting to let him go. He obliged, just holding you, his face tucked against your neck. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and that, along with his arms around you and his weight on top of you was all oddly comforting.
“I’m gonna pull out,” he finally said, when he had gone soft inside you. You sighed but nodded, and once he had pulled out you clamped your legs together, trying to keep as much of his cum inside you as you could.
He dressed quietly and you watched him, heart stuttering in your chest, your mind reeling. You had promised him that the sex wouldn’t change anything in your relationship, but you couldn’t believe how wrong you were. You wanted to reach for him, wanted him to stay, but you held back.
“Thanks for that,” you said quietly, and he turned to you and smiled.
“You’re welcome,” he said sincerely, “I’ll do anything for you,” and he brought his hand up and cupped your cheek, his eyes soft as he looked at you, “you’re my best friend.”
You smiled at him, but inside your heart was breaking. How could you ever think you could do this and keep your friendship as it was?
---
A few weeks later you were late, and although you tried not to get your hopes up you couldn’t help but think this was it. You waited to take the pregnancy test, wanting Jaehyun to be there no matter the outcome.
“What is it? What’s wrong? You said it’s an emergency.” He looked so concerned when he came over, and you almost felt bad for not saying what it was about right away.
“I’m late, Jaehyun,” you announced nervously.
“Where do you have to be?”
“No, I mean my period! I haven’t gotten my period yet!”
He paused, the pieces finally falling into place, and his face suddenly lit up. “Oh shit!” He covered his mouth with his hand as he looked at you with wide eyes.
“Come with me, I’m gonna take a pregnancy test.” You led him upstairs where he waited outside the bathroom door while you took the test. You placed the stick on the counter and opened the door to let him in.
“Well? What does it say?” he asked, rubbing his hands in anticipation.
“It’s gonna take a few minutes,” you answered nervously, “I can’t look, tell me what it says.” You turned away, so anxious you thought you would pass out.
“One line, so far,” he stated, and you tried to stay calm but your heart was beating out of your chest.
“Hold my hand,” you reached behind you and he took your hand in his, squeezing to comfort you. He was silent for a while, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “Well? What does it say now?”
“I see…” he started to say, and you so desperately wanted to turn around but you were too scared.
“What?! Just say it!”
He pulled you to him, turning you around and lifting the stick up to your eye level. “Two lines.”
You blinked a few times, wanting to make sure you were seeing it right, but every time you opened your eyes there were two solid lines. You were pregnant.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, both of your hands going up to cover your mouth. Jaehyun whooped in celebration, jumping up and down with glee. You saw the genuine happiness in his face and so many emotions ran through you that the only thing you could do was burst into tears.
“Aw, Y/N, don’t cry!” he laughed, gathering you into his arms, thinking you were just crying from happiness. But it was so much more complicated than that. You were getting what you wanted, a baby, but you hadn’t prepared yourself for all the complications of having a baby with your best friend, who you may have developed feelings for.
---
The first trimester was hell. You were throwing up every morning, and feeling nausea for the rest of the day. You had an aversion to most food, even hating the smell of certain things, like meat. The only things you could keep down were bread and noodles, and you wondered how the baby could grow when that was all that you ate. But at every appointment the doctor reassured you that the baby was doing well and developing at a good rate. Jaehyun insisted on going with you to your first ultrasound and as much as you wanted him to, you also dreaded it.
When the fuzzy form of your baby showed up on the screen for the first time you felt a surge of happiness overcome you, tears springing to your eyes at the sight of the tiny figure on the screen. You heard Jaehyun inhale sharply and turned to look at him. The awe in his face was so endearing it made the tears run down your cheeks, and seeing your reaction he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug.
“That’s our baby,” he whispered, his voice almost breaking, and you cried harder.
“Congratulations!” the technician said, patting you both on the shoulder. You felt like you should correct her, tell her that although the baby was technically yours and Jaehyun’s, you weren’t together and wouldn’t be raising the baby as such. But how do you explain that to a complete stranger? You looked over at Jaehyun, who was smiling from ear to ear, shaking the technician’s hand and making no move to explain the situation.
Later, as you were getting ready to leave the clinic, you saw the technician hand over a copy of the ultrasound picture to Jaehyun. He took it happily in his hands, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. As he walked towards you he slipped it into the plastic window spot in his wallet, where your drivers’ license should be, but his now housed a blurry black and white photo of your baby.
“Hey, wanna get something to eat to celebrate?” he asked, slinging an arm around you as you both left the clinic.
You shook your head. As much as you wanted to spend time with him, you found it hurt more than it helped. Once the baby was born you’d have to deal with him being around more often, so it was better to save up your strength for that.
“I’m actually really tired, I just want to go home and rest,” you answered without looking up at him, “besides, I’m still off most foods.”
“Oh, okay, makes sense.” He said, removing his arm from around your shoulder and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn’t sound upset or offended, but when you looked at him out of the corner of your eye you saw a flash of emotion cross his face, almost like hurt or disappointment. You felt bad, knowing you had been avoiding him, even giving up your weekly brunches, but you felt it was better this way.
“Listen, I’ll let you know when the next ultrasound is, okay? You can come with me again.” You wanted just to wipe the look of disappointment off his face, and luckily it worked.
“Yeah, that would be great! Thanks so much, Y/N,” he leaned down and hugged you, and it was the closest he’d been to you since the last time you’d had sex to make the baby. You held him close, committing the feel of him and the scent of him to memory, before you pulled away and walked towards your car.
---
If the first trimester had been hell, the second trimester was heaven. Miraculously the nausea disappeared, and you found yourself actually craving food. You felt more energized and less tired, and slept so much better. Your belly was starting to grow, and you actually had to start shopping for maternity clothes. Your mood was so much better, but what really came back with a vengeance was your libido. During the first trimester you couldn’t even think about sex, but now, it was all you could think about.
Usually your vibrator would do the trick, but there were always moments where you’d think about Jaehyun, think about how good he could make you feel. Sometimes just thinking about him fucking you was enough to get you off, but when you really thought about him, about the feeling of his cock parting your folds, or the feeling of his strong hips pounding into you, his face sweaty and his scent overpowering the air between you, nothing was better than the real thing.
Which is how you found yourself one night, holding your phone and dialing his number without hesitation.
“Hey, what’s up,” he answered, his voice sounding distant. You realized you hadn’t spoken to or seen him in weeks, and instantly you felt terrible.
“Um, actually nothing. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t wake me,” you could hear him shuffling around, like he had been lying down and started to sit up, “is something wrong, Y/N?”
He always saw right through you, you could hear the concern is his voice, and there was no turning back now.
“Could you come over? I think I need some… company.” You didn’t know if you could just ask for sex over the phone, and was it really only sex that you wanted? Or did you just want him there, with you.
“Yeah, yeah, sure, I can come over,” you heard more shuffling, like he was getting dressed, “are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’ll be better when you’re here.” You answered truthfully.
When he showed up at your door you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling him towards you and hugging him tightly. He didn’t protest, just held you and rubbed your back gently.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked softly against your hair.
“I miss you,” you admitted, voice muffled against his chest because you were too ashamed to look at him.
“I’m around, you know,” he chuckled, “you’re the one who cancelled our brunches.”
You pulled back and forced yourself to make eye contact with him. “No, Jaehyun, I miss you.” You touched his chest when you said it, giving him a look laden with meaning. He understood right away, his eyebrows rising slightly. You took him by the hand and pulled him inside, leading him upstairs and to your bedroom. He let himself be led, but once you were behind closed doors he suddenly took you into his arms and kissed you. The kiss wasn’t subtle, or gentle, it was intense and forceful, his intent surely to rile you up. It definitely worked, because you could feel wetness pooling in your panties as he stuck his tongue down your throat.
“You want my cock again,” he growled, breaking from the kiss to suck a line down your throat. You gasped at his aggressiveness, but you had to admit it really turned you on.
“Yes,” you breathed out, as he stripped you of your clothes and pushed you towards the bed. You fumbled at his clothes, trying to get them off but you found your limbs were weak from the way he was handling you. He took over, stripping off the rest of his clothes, his cock springing forward when he pulled his boxers down. You admired it for only a second before he turned you around, pushing you onto your hands and knees on the bed.
“You like my cock, don’t you, you like me fucking into your little pussy,” he spoke so low, his chest flush against your back so you could feel the reverberation of his voice.
You didn’t have a chance to answer, because he rammed his cock into you, a scream tearing from your throat as he went as deep as he could.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he started to pound into you. You weren’t sure how pregnant sex would feel, since so many things were changing in your body, but you weren’t prepared for what you got. It felt like your entire body was on fire, pleasure coursing through every part of you. He hit places inside you that you’d never felt before, and all of it was like nothing you’d ever experienced.
“Jae,” you panted, “Jae, oh my god!” your orgasm was coming on, super fast and beyond your control.
“You’re gonna come already, baby? Alright, come on, come all over my cock,” he reached down, and although it was a little awkward because of your belly, he managed to get to your clit and rub it with the pad of his thumb.
Your vision went white when your orgasm hit, your fingers and toes going numb as your pussy clenched around his cock. You could barely hold yourself up, your upper body falling to the bed as you convulsed around him. He kept going, fucking you through it, and when you stilled he pulled out and lay you on your back. He gave you a moment to catch your breath, before he entered you again. You cried out at the oversensitivity, but he went slowly, and soon enough you started to feel pleasure again.
“I can keep going,” he said, as he fucked into you at a slow but deliberate pace, “you want more, don’t you?”
You nodded vigorously, already feeling another orgasm building. He propped himself up then, and pounded into you, the bed shaking from his harsh thrusts. You gripped and pulled at the sheets, unable to contain the needy whines and moans coming up out of your mouth. You forced your eyes open to see him hovering over you, a look of intense concentration on his face, his brow sweaty, hair falling into his eyes. When he saw you looking at him his concentration faltered, and he bent his head down for a kiss. You were expecting a kiss to match the intensity with which he was fucking you, but instead it was soft, gentle, lingering. You felt something in it, something above and beyond what he was doing to you, something that carried you where you most wanted to be but didn’t dare go. The orgasm you had then was different, not just purely physical, not just filled with lust, but something more elevated, more emotional.
He broke the kiss to grunt loudly as he came, spilling more of his seed inside you. When he was done he pulled out, and sat at the edge of the bed.
“Y/N,” he said, and you don’t know why he sounded so defeated. You sat up, preparing yourself for what he was going to say.
“Jaehyun,” you reached for him but thought better of it, your hand dropping into your lap.
“I can’t keep doing this with you,” he said, his voice quiet but determined, “it’s fucking me up and I don’t know what to do with myself.”
Your heart sank. He was pulling out of your life, and it was all your fault for doing this to him. “I’m so sorry, Jaehyun.”
He got dressed hurriedly, without looking back at you, and before he opened the door to leave he turned back.
“You need to decide for yourself what you want me to be,” he still didn’t look at you, opting to look at the floor instead, “I’ll always be here for you, but I need to know where I stand.”
The door closing behind him echoed in the room, the absence of him already settling into your heart.
---
You went through the rest of the second trimester on your own, too ashamed and heartbroken to see Jaehyun, and too confused to sort out your feelings. He’d text you once in a while to ask you how you were doing, how you were feeling, but there was no talk beyond the pregnancy. He didn’t come to any more of your doctor’s appointments, nor did you ever invite him to any more in the first place. The third trimester hit even worse than the first, your belly was now so big it was almost uncomfortable to do anything, you now had constant heartburn, and you were going to the bathroom every ten minutes because of the weight on your bladder.
About a month before your due date, you were making dinner in the kitchen when you felt an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen. You clutched your stomach, gripping the counter in alarm and wondering what you should do. The feeling came and went, but returned after a few minutes. Concerned, you called your doctor, who advised you to come in to the hospital just to get checked out. As you were getting ready you got a text from Jaehyun, asking how you were doing.
Jaehyun: hey just doing my check-in
JH: how is it going today
Me: well it’s probably nothing but
Me: just going to the hospital to get checked out
JH: wait what
JH: let me take you
Me: i should be ok
JH: Y/N pls let me take you
Me: ok
JH: thank you i’ll be right there
You sighed, wishing you had never told him and made him worry. Luckily you didn’t have to wait long since he lived nearby, and soon enough he was pulling up to your house. You didn’t bother to wait for him to come to the door, coming out as soon as you saw his car. You were locking the front door when the uncomfortable feeling came back, making you double over, clutching your stomach.
“Y/N!” you heard Jaehyun yell behind you, and soon enough his arms were cradling you as you crouched over. “What happened? What’s going on?”
His voice sounded frantic, terrified, and when you looked up in his eyes he looked so scared that it made your chest ache.
You smiled weakly, trying to placate him, “Don’t worry, it’s probably just false labor,” you patted him on the arm and soon enough the feeling went away. “My doctor just wants me to come in and get checked out, just in case.”
He nodded, but didn’t look reassured at all, creases of worry still lining his face. He also didn’t let you go, holding onto your arm as you walked to the car. At the hospital he didn’t leave your side, until the doctor came to do your examination.
“I’ll wait outside,” he said hesitantly, but you could tell he didn’t want to leave at all, eyes looking longingly back at you as he left the room.
After the doctor examined you and reassured you that it really was just false labor, you were cleared to leave and found Jaehyun in the hall, pacing. Once he saw you he ran up to you, searching your face with frantic eyes.
“Well? What happened?” he’d taken your hands in his, and his palms felt cold and clammy.
“It was nothing, just false labor, the doctor told me to go home and rest.” You reassured him, squeezing his hands and smiling softly at him. He let out a long breath, collapsing into a nearby chair.
“Oh my god, Y/N, I almost died!” he passed the back of his hand over his eyes dramatically, and you suppressed a giggle at his overdramatic show.
“Don’t laugh!” he sat up and looked at you incredulously, “I lost ten years of my life just now!”
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” you pressed your lips together trying not to smile. He broke into a wide grin then, pleased with himself that he had managed to lighten your mood with his sense of humor.
“Come on, let’s get you home.”
---
The drive from the hospital had been quiet, both of you realizing that there was still this huge wall between you, and neither of you were brave enough to breach it. He walked you to your door in continued silence, and once you reached your doorstep he turned around to walk back to his car.
“Jaehyun,” you called, unable to stand it anymore, “do you wanna come in and talk?”
He turned around, a mixture of hope, fear, and resignation on his face, and nodded.
The time apart had made you realize how much you missed him, and seeing him again had made you realize how much you still wanted him to be a part of your life. You were hoping to salvage something of your relationship, but you were fully aware that you could never go back to what it had been.
You sat him down on the sofa and took a deep breath.
“Jaehyun,” you began, getting more and more nervous as you went on, “I know I made things weird, even though I promised I wouldn’t,” he opened his mouth to say something but you stopped him, determined to get out what you wanted to say. “I was so focused on having a baby that I didn’t think about what involving you would mean, and what it would do to our friendship. I think I was just naive, I didn’t think anything would change, and I was so wrong.”
He sat across from you, and even though he was just inches away it felt like he was miles away, like an unfathomable chasm had opened up between you. Then he looked up at you, hesitant, but determined.
“Y/N, we can’t go back and change things anymore. What’s happened has happened.” He tilted his head to regard you, taking a deep breath before moving on, “so I just need to know one thing.”
“What is it?”
“Do you want me to be a part of your life?”
“Yes. Always.” You answered truthfully, without a doubt in your mind. He smiled, but there was still something behind his eyes.
“Hey, do you remember that pact we made in eighth grade?” He suddenly asked, his eyes twinkling.
“The marriage one?” you scanned your eighth grade memories and that was the only pact you could think of.
“Yeah, the one where we said if neither of us are married by the time we’re thirty, we’ll marry each other?”
“Yes, I remember.” It was during PE class, when you and Jaehyun were sitting in the field while everyone else was running around chasing soccer balls. You don’t remember how the subject came up, but soon enough you were doing pinky swears and Jaehyun was fashioning rings out of blades of grass for you and him to wear. You both had a good laugh over it, and never thought about it again until this moment.
“So what if we didn’t wait?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if we didn’t wait until we’re thirty, what if we just did it now? I mean, we’re having a baby together already.”
“Jaehyun, are you proposing right now?” you said it as a joke, even chuckling to yourself, you weren’t taking the whole thing seriously at all, except Jaehyun wasn’t laughing.
“I mean, I don’t have a ring, but…” he looked around the room, and seeing your spider plant on a nearby table he picked a leaf off and rolled it around itself, making a ring out of it, and slipped it on your finger. You were speechless.
“Jaehyun, you’re serious.” You managed to say after the thoughts stopped running through your brain. You hadn’t really thought about marriage, none of the guys you’d dated had ever made you think about it. You knew you wanted kids, but marriage was something you figured you couldn’t achieve, never having found the right guy. Yet here he was all along, Jeong Jaehyun,  your best friend, someone who knew you inside and out. A dawning realization hit you then, that maybe none of your relationships ever worked out because you kept comparing them to Jaehyun, and no one ever held up. You were in love with your best friend, and you didn’t even know it.
“Well?” he asked, with raised eyebrows and hopeful eyes. You stared at the leaf ring on your finger, turning it around and around, your heart and mind finally finding peace in your realization. You looked up at him, cupping his face, and he looked like he was bracing himself for a possibly negative response.
“Yes.” You answered, smiling brightly at him, and it took him a moment to realize you weren’t turning him down. His face broke out into a wide grin, his dimples as deep as ever, his eyes shiny. He pulled you in for a hug, but your belly made it somewhat awkward.
“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re huge!” he looked down at your belly in awe.
“Jaehyun what the fuck!” you smacked him on the arm, slightly offended.
“No, I meant I was too busy being worried about you that I never noticed how big your belly had gotten.” He reached out his hand tentatively. “Can I touch?”
“Of course,” you said, happy that you could share this with him. You took his hand and placed it on your belly.
“Can you feel the baby move?” He asked, eyes growing wide when his hand landed on your stomach.
“Sometimes, mostly when I’m lying still though.” You let him rub his hand over your stomach, endeared at how awestruck he was, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ as he moved his hand around. He suddenly leaned forward, his face getting very close to your belly.
“Hey little one,” he called softly, and your heart clenched at the sight of him talking to the baby in your belly, “I’m your dad.”
Suddenly you felt a jolt in your ribs, as the baby stretched and kicked inside you.
“Oh my god, Y/N! Did you feel that?” Jaehyun clapped excitedly.
“Damn right I felt it,” you groaned, patting your stomach, “keep it down in there, kicking mama in the ribs really hurts!”
Jaehyun burst out laughing, gathering you in his arms and hugging you tightly. “That was adorable!” he exclaimed, and your heart felt warm as you wrapped your arms around him.
---
You decided to just do a small backyard ceremony for your wedding, neither of you fond of big parties that meant even bigger expenses. Jaehyun moved into your house since he had been rooming with a friend, and once all of his things had been moved in and installed, you were left alone with each other once again.
You don’t know why, but your first night as a married couple felt like the first night you’d had sex, awkward as hell. Once again you stood on either side of the bed, unsure as to what to do.
“Bed?” he finally asked after you’d both stood there for too long.
“Bed,” you answered, and you both got in at the same time. You couldn’t help but laugh at your awkwardness, and that certainly broke the tension. You turned to your side, the only way you could get comfortable with how big your belly was, and he slotted his body behind you, wrapping an arm around you and resting his hand on your belly. You sighed contentedly, loving the feeling of being in his arms.
“This is nice,” he whispered, but his breath against your ear made you shiver, and suddenly contentment wasn’t the only thing you were feeling. Not to mention his hand that was on your belly had moved to your hip, fingers tracing wide circles over the fabric of your sleep shorts.
“Jaehyun,” you didn’t mean to, but his name came out in a moan, and his hand stopped its circuit, the faintest bit of pressure being applied to your hip.
“Y/N?” he questioned, but you were taking his hand and moving it up to your breasts. Once he cupped them you moaned again. “Holy shit, Y/N, your boobs are huge!”
“Jaehyun!” you reprimanded him, but he apologized quickly.
“Sorry, sorry, I just-” he cupped and squeezed, feeling the weight of them, “wow,” was all he could say.
“Well they won’t be this big for too long, so you better take advantage of them now,” you encouraged, and he did, tweaking your nipples until you were moaning into your pillow.
“Tell me if I do anything that hurts, or makes you feel uncomfortable, okay?” he whispered into your ear, before he started to plant wet kisses along your neck and shoulder. Your mind went hazy at the feeling of his lips on your skin, and soon he slipped a hand down, past the waistband of your shorts.
You inhaled sharply when his fingers found you wet, when he gathered some of your arousal to rub it around your clit. You moaned loudly when he made circles around your bud, pressing your face further into your pillow.
“Don’t do that, baby, I wanna hear you,” he pulled the covers off and pushed your pillow away, helping you take off your shirt and the rest of your clothes so you were fully exposed to him. He looked at you, lust and hunger clouding his eyes. “Fuck, you look so gorgeous knocked up with my baby.”
Your pussy clenched at his words and you pulled at his own clothes to get him to take them off. “Come here and fuck me, husband.”
Your words ignited something in him, and he bent down, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and pushing into you. You cried out, not caring anymore how loud you were being, the feeling of his cock inside you throwing you into the heights of pleasure. Once you started though, you couldn’t stop, moans and whimpers and whines tumbling out of your lips as he pumped his cock inside you.
“You like it, don’t you?” he growled, “you like my cock so much you let me knock you up.”
You moaned even louder at his words, your orgasm starting to build in the pit of your stomach. “Yes, god, yes!”
“You want my cum, baby? Look at where it got you, huh? You let me come inside you and now you’re knocked up.” His voice was raspy, deep, and it cut right to your core.
“Fuck, Jaehyun! I’m gonna come!” you warned him, grasping at the sheets as your orgasm hit you, your pussy pulsing around his cock. It didn’t take much longer for him to come, one last thrust that took your breath away, and he spilled his seed into you.
“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “did it hurt at all?”
“No, not at all, it felt good,” you smiled at him, wanting to alleviate his concern. He looked relieved, before he bent down and kissed the swell of your stomach.
“Sorry, baby,” he said sheepishly, addressing the baby, and you could only laugh, rubbing a hand through his hair as he smiled up at you.
---
The next day Jaehyun had left for work, and you were almost out the door yourself when you felt something gush between your legs. You figured you knew what it was and, resolved to stay calm, you quickly called Jaehyun.
“Babe, what is it?” he answered on the first ring.
“I think my water broke.” 
“Okay, stay calm, I’m on my way back.”
It didn’t take long for him to come back since he’d just left, and you drove to the hospital all the while holding tightly to his hand. The contractions started then, not too bad at first but as time went on the pain was hard to bear. By the time you reached the hospital you were grimacing in pain and Jaehyun was yelling for someone to come and help you.
You labored for hours, Jaehyun never leaving your side, giving you strength even when you felt like you had no more to give. You wondered how you could have ever done this without him, without his unwavering support, his cheerful but calm demeanor raising you up when you felt like giving in. Soon enough you had a healthy baby in your hands, a boy that an ecstatic Jaehyun had already dubbed his ‘mini me’.
---
If you had known what the first few weeks with a newborn would have been like you would have seriously rethought having a baby in the first place. You were exhausted more than you had ever been in your life, catching sleep for only those precious moments when the baby would sleep. Your breasts were sore from breastfeeding, and if you never saw another poopy diaper in your life it would be too soon. What made it all worth it, was the look of pure innocence in your baby’s eyes, and the way your husband would stare at him like he was the most precious person in the world.
One night you were woken again by the baby’s cries, and trudging to his room you were surprised to see Jaehyun already there.
“Sorry to wake you,” he whispered, “I was changing him and he lost his binky.” You stood in the doorway and watched as your husband expertly handled your son, swaddling him in his blankets and making sure the pacifier was situated in his mouth. “Go back to bed, I got this.”
Jaehyun had done many things during your time together that you considered sexy, but this was probably the sexiest thing he had ever done. You walked back to your bedroom, mentally reminding yourself to reward him when you were more awake.
You lay in bed though, unable to fall back asleep. Your mind was racing, anxieties resurfacing at that dark and quiet time of night. Jaehyun eventually came back, sliding into the bed and spooning you, his arm coming to wrap around your waist.
“Jae?” you whispered, hoping he hadn’t fallen back asleep right away.
“Hm? I thought you were asleep.” He sounded tired, tightening his arm around you.
“Is this the life you wanted?” you asked him, rubbing his arm that was wrapped around you.
“Absolutely.” He answered, without hesitation.
“No, I’m serious.”
“So am I. Why wouldn’t you think I was being serious?” he suddenly propped himself up on his elbow so he could see your face.
“Because you had a life before this, and now it’s just-” you waved your hand in the air, “me and the baby.”
“Just you and the baby? Y/N, you and Yuno are the most important things in my life right now.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yeah I had Friday night drinks and Sunday basketball games, and that was fun and all, but you two are my family now.”
“Don’t you miss it?”
“If I did I’d just go and do it? So no, I don’t miss it right now. Maybe eventually? But that doesn’t mean I’d love you and Yuno less.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d told you he loved you, but you knew you’d never get tired of hearing it. You’d been surprised when he’d told you he’d been in love with you for a while, not daring to say anything about it for fear of ruining your friendship. When you’d told him that you wanted to have a baby he knew that there was no one else in the world that he wanted to bear his children except you, and he was relieved when you accepted his offer of being a sperm donor. He had been prepared to be just that, but the sex threw everything into chaos, including his feelings for you and his resolve to keep your relationship as just friends. He felt himself falling even deeper for you, but his heart couldn’t handle the push and pull he was feeling from you. He never wanted to pull out of your life, and he spent more time staring at his phone waiting for you to call or text than he dared to admit. Bringing up the marriage pact had been a gamble, and he was terrified that you’d say no, but when you said yes, he could barely contain his happiness.
“Listen,” he said, taking your hand in his, “this life is more than I could have ever asked for.”
“Really?” you asked, turning to look at him, “With me?”
“Baby, it’s always been you.”
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weasleylangs · 3 years
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swipe right / f.w
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Summary: Finding your best friend and your biggest crush on Tinder is always awkward.  Pairing: Muggle!Fred Weasley x Muggle!Fem!Reader Warnings: Discussions of sex, language, alcohol, food/drink mention.  Word Count: 6.9k (this is the longest thing i’ve ever written)
AUTHORS NOTE / hiiiii... this is my first fic in SO long but thank you for waiting for me!!! a huge thank you to my lovely rosie @spacexcowgirl for inspiring this fic and also listening to me ramble on about it for hours on end as i was writing it and for also beta reading it guys this fic rly wouldnt exist if it wasnt for rose so.........
/ also, george’s girlfriend in the fic is named ‘em’ and she has no physical description besides also using she/her pronouns. i’m trying this out so even people who aren’t (primarily) fred simps can self insert in this fic!!!
taglist / @amourtentiaa​ @weelittleweasley​ @lumos-barnes​​ @lumosandnoxwriting​​ @loveboyhalo​​ @harrysweasleys​​ @freds-slut​​ @rcwenaclaw​​ @barneswidow​ @fandomhideout​​​
-------------
Y/N stared at her screen, the Tinder profile of Fred Weasley staring right back at her, teasing her ominously. She eventually decides to lock her phone to avoid the familiar and unwelcomed feelings rising in her throat. The last thing she ever expected to see during her mindless swiping at 1am was her best friend’s Tinder profile. 
She knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way but she’s also not stupid. She and Fred both have had their fair share of dates and hookups thanks to dating apps- they’re in the twenties and single after all. But she can’t shake how weird she feels finding Fred. Like she’s stumbled across something private.
Y/N unlocks her phone again, curiosity eventually making her cave after staring at her ceiling blankly for way too long. 
‘Pros: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that's a good thing). Cons: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that’s a bad thing).’
It’s a short and simple bio, much like her own but she has to stifle a choked laugh. She and George’s girlfriend have said these to both the twins and she feels a sense of accomplishment that she can’t explain. Almost like Fred thinking of her while he sets up his dating profile means something. 
She hesitates a moment, debating between swiping left and never thinking about Fred and dating profiles ever again and swiping right just to see what happens. Y/N’s definitely making it a bigger issue than it has to be, which is why she doesn’t realise when George’s girlfriend and her roommate suddenly appears in her doorway holding chocolate.
“Em, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow?” She questions and the girl in the doorway shrugs, making her way into the room and sitting down without an invitation.
“I can vaguely hear you monologuing next door,” she laughs as she breaks a line of chocolate off the bar and hands it to Y/N. She groans, in her moment of panic she completely forgot about the fact it’s late and their bedroom walls are paper-thin. “All I heard was something about Fred and the word fuck. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” she winks and Y/N cringes, Em’s usual 15-year-old boy humour shining through as she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth. 
“You’re hilarious,” Y/N says rolling her eyes but she can’t deny the fondness that’s there for her best friend. “No, you’re not interrupting anything, rather the opposite actually, look.” She passes her unlocked phone to Em and Y/N wishes she could have captured the shocked look on Em's face.
“Fred has a fucking active Tinder?” She’s quickly swiping through his profile and she hates to admit he has good pictures, but when she gets to his bio she snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s something you say, Y/N.” 
Y/N feels her face go red at Em’s comment. She’s acknowledged this already but when someone else says it she feels like she isn’t being as far fetched as she’s convinced herself. While she outright refuses to acknowledge her feelings for Fred to anyone who isn’t herself, she knows Em knows without having to tell her. Call it best friend instinct, ‘dating-his-twin-brother’ instinct, whatever she pleases, which is why when there’s a mischievous glint in Em’s eyes, Y/N immediately is reaching for her phone. “No.”
Em whines, rolling onto her back. “Why not, you’re so boring!” 
“I am not swiping right on Frederick fucking Weasley.” She feels her face becoming warmer as she says it. Em gives her a look as if to say ‘I believe you’ with a glint in her eye that makes Y/N know she doesn’t. “I’m just never going to open the app again!”
Em rolls her eyes but the fond smile on her face is unmistakable. “And do what, love?” 
Y/N falters for a second before shrugging. “Not perceive his profile. It’ll be gone into the abyss of people who live in London and I’ll never think about it again.” She’s smiling, thinking she’s concocted the most perfect plan.
-----
It wasn’t the most perfect plan, for when Y/N is hanging out with Fred two days later she’s faced yet again with the ‘Tinder Predicament’ as dubbed by Em. Fred and Y/N are sitting in their favourite park, the new spring weather of London on their skin as they soak up the friendly sun rays after a harsh winter. Y/N is laying on her stomach, the book open but she’s barely reading as she pretends to listen to Fred ramble on about only God knows what. 
It’s 11am, not too early for the park to be empty but busy enough that other people are turning up, mostly couples. Y/N tunes Fred out, quickly getting lost in her own thoughts. Do other people think we’re a couple? she thinks to herself. She knows if Em could read her mind she’d say yes and Y/N is quick to push the thought out of her mind. 
Everything is interrupted when her phone lights up with a ‘You’ve got a new match!’ notification and before she can hide it from prying eyes, Fred’s wolf-whistling. 
“You’ve got dating apps, do ya, Y/L/N?” he teases and Y/N wants the Earth to swallow her up, she can’t think of a worse situation to be in. 
“Yeah, don’t you?” The second the words leave her mouth she regrets them. Fred’s smirking at her, a signature smirk of his he only does when she knows he’s up to something. Unfortunately for her, she is on the receiving end of that something.
“Something along the lines of ‘looking for a golden retriever boy?’. Ring any bells, darling?” Y/N feels her blood drain from her body and Fred releases a laugh that can only be described as a full-body chortle. “You know I have one, darling. Besides, you popped up last night. I already knew.” 
Y/N groans. This shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it feels but it’s Fred and knowing Fred has seen her dating profile was low on her wishes for this week, or for her entire life for that matter. 
“Did you at least swipe right on me?” 
It’s said with a teasing manner, falling right out of Y/N’s mouth before she can stop it. Her curiosity always gets the best of her and she wants to kick herself for it. But she doesn’t even notice Fred’s slight falter, the red tint kissing his cheeks and emphasising the freckles across his face at the comment. “You’ll have to swipe right on me to find out.” 
She can’t tell if he’s joking. But Fred is always joking. So she laughs and pushes him slightly, “If I come across your Tinder profile, I’m reporting it.” 
“It would be a blessing from the universe for you to come across my dating profile. I’m sure you’d appreciate my bio.” 
“Let me guess. ‘6’3 if it matters’?” Fred scowls looking down at her and she knows she looks way too proud for that comment but she doesn’t care and after a few seconds, Fred doesn’t care either. He starts to feel a small shred of jealousy from knowing Y/N has a Tinder profile, but he swallows it, tabling it for later when he isn’t with her.
“Why do you have the app?” He blurts out, annoyed at himself for letting it slip out. “Just… Curious, y’know?” He adds on when he notices Y/N looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t really want to know, but the words are out there and the cute scrunch of Y/N’s nose as she thinks of an answer almost makes it worth it.
“Male validation, mostly,” she laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck when she hears Fred laugh along with her. “I don’t know, Freddie.” She says, exasperatedly. “I barely use it. What about you?”
“Sex, if I’m honest.” Now it’s his turn to awkwardly laugh because he knows he answered that way too quickly and a little too honest for his own comfort. Y/N’s been his best friend for years, probably knows him best besides George but she didn’t really need to know he uses his Tinder profile to hook up with people. 
When Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, Fred takes it badly. He knows she would never judge him, not about anything and especially not this, but his thoughts get the best of him and sometimes he can’t help it. He has no idea Y/N is in her own head, jealous other girls get to hold Fred at a distance closer than she ever will. 
He clears his throat and checks his phone to see no notifications besides a direct message from Lee Jordan. He knows George isn’t expecting him home- cursing his brother when he remembers George demanded the flat to himself (and in turn, also Em) today for a few hours. “Hey, uh. I’ve gotta go. Emergency with George apparently.” 
He knows he shouldn’t have lied, it’s not even a good lie but it was the first thing he thought of. He notices Y/N’s eyebrows furrow before she shrugs, nodding before closing her book. “That’s okay, I was getting tired anyway. I might pop back to my flat for a nap.” 
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Fred asks and his chest feels warm when Y/N meets his face with a smile. 
“Of course, Freddie.” 
She watches Fred leave, her thoughts getting the best of her. She knows for a fact there is no ‘George emergency’- she knows George is with Em probably being sick and in love and she’s sure Fred knows this too. The realisation Fred made an excuse to not spend time with her hits her like a truck, her mind frantically searching for what she could’ve possibly done to upset her best friend. 
“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, the second she realises.
-----
To: Em > if you come home tonight dont mind me being drunk x 
Y/N sends the text as she stands in the kitchen, pouring herself her second glass of wine before it has even hit 6pm. On her way home, she stopped by the liquor store, picked up her favourite wine and decided to drink away the anxieties of upsetting Fred.
From: Em > ill be home. ill pick up chinese on the way. save me some wine!!! x
She smiles down at her phone, knowing Em would always be there without even realising it. She sits down on their couch and turns on the television- old reruns of early 2000s sitcoms playing on almost every channel. 
It’s 20 minutes late when Em turns up. She’s nursing the Chinese food as if it’s a child as she tries to unlock the front door without dropping the food or her bottle of wine. She smiles proudly at Y/N the second she gets in, putting the food on the table before she grabs her own wine glass. 
“What happened today?” 
Y/N is caught off guard but she shouldn’t be shocked. She doesn’t usually drink and when she does, it’s very rarely without Em. “Nothing’s wrong!” she says, skulling the rest of her wine when Em gives her a knowing look.
“You were with Fred today and now you’re sad drinking. What happened?” Usually, she loves when Em is her all-knowing best friend, but right now she wishes she’d shut up. 
“Nothing happened!” She’s adamant to not say too much. She knows it’s probably all in her head, that she and Fred will be fine in a few days but when Em gives her one more knowing look, she breaks. “Okay, fine. I think I upset him today.” 
Em’s confused, to say the least. Fred, for as long as she has known him, has never been upset with Y/N- even on accident. She has the tall redhead wrapped around her finger. “How?” she questions, because she truly can’t think of a single thing that Y/N could do to hurt him. 
Em places Y/N’s food in front of her when she starts speaking. “We were talking about Tinder- don’t give me that look he saw a notification and it came up and he asked why I had it. I said I don’t know and when I asked him, he said he uses it for sex,” Y/N says softly, pouring herself another glass of wine before continuing. “I didn’t say anything when he said that, because… Well… You know why.” 
Em does know. She knew the second she became Y/N’s roommate their first year of University that she had feelings for Fred and she knew immediately Fred liked her too but Y/N’s never believed her. “You think he got upset you didn’t say anything about sex?” 
“I think he thinks I was being judgemental.” Em sighs at Y/N’s response. She loves both her best friends- they’re her favourite people besides George but she knows they can be idiots. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the forks against their Chinese containers before Em grab’s Y/N’s phone, unlocking it.
“Well if Fred’s using Tinder for sex, so should you!” she says matter-of-factly and when Y/N groans from the kitchen sink, Em speaks again. “It’s true! He likes you but won’t tell you, you like him but won’t tell anyone! Who’s a good meaningless shag going to hurt?” 
That’s how they end up in Em’s bed, cuddling under the duvet with ice cream and Y/N’s Tinder profile open on her phone. “You’re so fucking picky, holy shit,” Em says when Y/N scrunches her nose up at the sixth consecutive guy. “It’s a shag, not a hand in marriage, love.”
“They don’t do it for me!” Y/N is avoiding the elephant in the room- that she’s comparing every guy that pops up to Fred. “I have to be attracted to them for this meaningless shag you’re preaching about… See, he’s cute!” His name’s Cormac, he’s 21 so only a few years younger than Y/N and he’s not bad looking. 
“He looks like a douchebag!” Em exclaims and Y/N groans. 
“You told me to stop being picky!” 
“Stop being picky doesn’t mean saying yes to the first conventionally attractive guy we see!” Em exclaims as she swipes left on poor Cormac. Y/N gets up to pour herself and Em one more glass of wine each and she hears Em starting giggling to herself when the new profile shows up, hiding the phone from Y/N’s eyes when she walks over. Without even questioning Y/N, Em swipes right and immediately she starts howling laughing. 
‘New Match!’ the screen reads and Y/N feels her breath hitch when snatches the phone from Em’s hands and she sees who she matched with.
Fred, 24. 2km away.
“I remembered after dinner, you said he told you to swipe right to see what he did,” Em says proudly, and Y/N regrets even mentioning it to Em offhandedly. Y/N’s eyes are transfixed on the tiny screen. There’s no way he seriously swiped right, she’s sure it’s only a joke- people jokingly match with their friends all the time. “So here you go, Freddie swiped right on my lil Y/N/N.” 
Y/N shakes her head at this. “I’m sure he only did it as a joke. People do that when they find their friends on Tinder all the time!” she says, sitting back down on the bed and cuddling up next to Em. “You were telling me to swipe right on him last night, after all.” 
Em looks at Y/N and sighs, clearly sensing how uncomfortable Y/N is feeling right now from the confrontation of her feelings for Fred. “I was telling you to swipe right because I know you’re in love with him,” she says softly, not missing the way Y/N’s eyes soften at the mention of her feelings for Fred. “I’m sorry if I’d known-”
“Don’t apologise! I’m just going to ignore the fact we matched,” she says softly, unlocking her phone and immediately exiting from Fred’s profile. The tension from a few moments ago quickly dissipates as Y/N receives another match, this time from a boy named Neville who Y/N knows is friends with Fred’s little brother. 
“When did you swipe on Nev?” Em asks and Y/N shrugs. She knows she probably did it to be funny, like what she thinks Fred’s done to her, but the more she thinks about it, Neville isn’t a bad match. He’s nice, friendly and now he’s in his twenties, he isn’t bad looking either.  
“Nev’s sweet. If he asked me out I’d say yes.” She says. She isn’t lying- there’s been times she’s considered going on dates to avoid her feelings for Fred, to get over him once and for all but whenever it gets to that point, she chickens out. “I know you want a meaningless shag, but I think maybe a date would be a good idea. You know?”
Em nods, pulling Y/N closer to cuddle her and suddenly feeling bad about preaching for meaningless sex. “Maybe you’re more of a date before shagging kind of girl, and that’s okay.” 
“Yeah, maybe.” 
-----
Em’s fast asleep and Y/N’s overthinking next to her when she gets a message from a match. Y/N rolls her eyes when she sees the time reads 2am; knowing whoever's messaging at this time is just looking for a booty call but she opens the notification nonetheless.
From: Fred > i can be a golden retriever boy :) 
She smiles at the message, Fred’s presence always does that to her. She never expected him to message her on tinder considering she’s convinced it was just a joke swipe right, but this is probably just a joking message too. She checks his bio is still the same Aries joke before quickly replying.  
To: Fred > good thing im a big aries fan then ;)  > how tall are you though? im sure youre well aware it matters
She hopes Fred laughs at her messages because making Fred laugh is her favourite pastime. The three dots signalling Fred’s typing pops up and her heart starts to race.
From: Fred
> im 7’5 if its that important :/ 
She giggles and when doesn’t know how to reply after that, she exits out of their messages, but it’s not like she has to keep a conversation with Fred going. She’s trying to think of a funny message to send Fred when she gets another message; this time from Neville.
From: Neville > hi Y/N! i hope this isnt a weird time to message you, i just finished grading some work. i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime this week? we were kind of friends at school, after all, and it’ll be nice to catch up :) 
The message from Neville is sweet, and she almost feels guilty reading it. Attached is his number and everything and Y/N feels her throat closing up. She would feel terrible going on a date with Neville despite what she claimed earlier, knowing her heart currently belongs to Fred. 
But Fred’s lack of interest in her is eating at her as much as her own feelings for him do, and she knows she deserves better than to sit around and wait for him any longer. If Em was awake the date would already be confirmed, she knows that much so she decides to say yes to Neville, to at least put herself out there. She can imagine the little Devil version of Em dancing on her shoulder as she begins to type out a reply to Neville.
She doesn’t even think to look at who it’s being sent to before clicking send. But by then it’s too late- she doesn’t even know how she ended up back in Fred’s messages but now she wants to roll up into a ball and die.
To: Fred > hi neville! id love to grab dinner one day, here’s my number and we can organise it tomorrow because im going to bed now! x
She’s staring at the message for so long she doesn’t even notice the ‘???’ she gets back from Fred. She quickly copies and pastes the message to the right recipient this time before plugging in her phone and rolling over to sleep.
Em’s slight snoring lulls her to sleep, thoughts of Fred filling her mind before she passes out for the night. What she doesn’t know is that while she falls asleep, Fred lays awake, staring at his ceiling. Contemplating the knowledge he has knowing Y/N’s potentially organising a date with one of  his little brother’s best friends. 
-----
Fred hates this feeling; this feeling of jealousy in his stomach that’s threatening to spill out of his throat. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about Y/N accidentally messaging him about a date with another person all morning and he knows George is getting annoyed with him. 
“Why are you being such a prat this morning?” George had asked when Fred scowled at his brother for simply standing in the kitchen. Fred had huffed as a reply, grabbing the milk for his tea before sitting down at their table to munch on his toast.
“Not being a prat,” he says, words muffled by the food in his mouth and George gives him a disgusted look before taking a bite of his own toast. “Do you remember Neville Longbottom?” 
George nods, of course, he knows Neville. “Ron’s friend? Super nice bloke. Think him and Hannah Abbott just broke up, why?” 
Fred shrugs, he’s almost positive it’s the same Neville now. “Think Y/N’s going on a date with him, that’s all.” When George raises his eyebrows, Fred speaks again, “Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going on a date with a prat.”
“Wanted to know who she is going on a date with in general, more like it,” George mutters under his breath. He knows Fred better than he knows anybody, better than he knows his girlfriend and almost better than he knows himself. “You sure you’re not jealous?”
Fred squints at George. “Why would I be jealous?” Fred stands and makes his way to the kitchen to wash up his dishes and he almost drops them in the sink when George speaks again.
“Because you’re in love with Y/N?” He says it so casually Fred almost chokes on air. He’s never thought about himself and Y/N in that way. Sure they like to cuddle when they’re drunk and they spend every waking moment together but he’s not in love with Y/N.
Is he?
“What makes you say that?” Fred asks quietly, hoping to hide the red blush forming on his cheeks. George might be his best friend and twin brother but he knows he would never live it down admitting he has feelings for Y/N. 
“You two are worse than Em and I, and we’re actually dating,” George speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When Em first met Y/N, she asked how long you and she had been together for, mate.” 
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Fred says a little too quickly. 
“I’m sure it doesn’t, Freddie,” George smirks as he speaks, getting up to wash his dishes now. Fred stands in the kitchen, nursing his cup of tea as he contemplates George’s words. Sure, he always knew he had some kind of feelings for his best friend, but being in love was another whole ordeal. It means wanting long term commitment, probably a house together, maybe marriage, perhaps kids if Y/N wanted them and the longer Fred sits with these in his mind, he quickly realises he does want all that and even more with Y/N. He’s probably wanted it with her for a while and he just hasn’t ever realised.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, low enough for George not to hear but when Fred doesn’t have a rebuttal to George’s words he knows he’s accidentally sent Fred into an existential crisis. 
“Look, Fred. If Y/N going on a date bothers you, you need to tell her.” George knows he’s about to cross some lines that he promised himself he would never cross but it’s getting dire in his eyes. “Y/N likes you and deep down you know you like her too, even if you’re oblivious. She deserves to know and if you’re too much of a chicken to admit it to her, then you don’t get to be bothered about her going on a date with Neville Longbottom.” 
Fred huffs. He knows George is right, but he can’t help but feel like he truly noticed too late. He swiped right on her on Tinder hoping she would swipe right back and they could go from there. But he knows Y/N only swiped right to see if he had done it first, that she only swiped right out of curiosity and right now, Fred is cursing the app under his breath. 
“Well, fine, yes I like Y/N, but I can’t just stop her from going on a date. That’s controlling and mean.” Fred states and George just sighs. “I’ll talk to her after her date, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”
George stares at him. “Since when are you mister Que sera, sera, Freddie?” Fred shrugs, not understanding the reference George made. “Since when are you just letting it happen?” George translates when he notices the blank stare on Fred’s face.
“Since right now. I don’t want to come off controlling to Y/N.” Fred says. In actuality, even though he knows George would never lie to him, he’s scared. Y/N is his best friend and the last thing he ever wants to do is ruin his closest friendship all because of some jealousy. 
“Okay fine, but if she gets a boyfriend, I’m sorry mate,” George says and he knows putting the threat of losing Y/N romantically on the line is harsh, but it’s what he has to do. He’s watched the pair pine for each other for years and he’s sure this is the last straw. 
“We’re going out with the lads in a few days, by the way! Maybe you can stop moping enough for a shag!” George calls out and Fred flips him the finger as he walks off to his bedroom. 
-----
Y/N and Neville decide on getting dinner together three days later. It’s a Friday so neither of them has to worry about work or coursework the next day, which is perfect. Neville tells Y/N about his favourite Italian restaurant right near Old Street subway station in Shoreditch, so that’s where the pair decide to meet. 
It’s rather busy when Y/N gets to the station. Neville has apologised profusely for still being fifteen minutes away but she reassures him it’s fine and that she’ll meet him outside the station so they can walk to the restaurant together. 
Y/N’s on her phone, texting Em and telling her she’s safe when she feels a presence next to her. She tenses up quickly but she soon relaxes when she looks at the person next to her and realises it’s Fred. 
“Hi,” she says, smiling. She hasn’t seen him since the day in the park, but they’ve texted and called so she’s sure everything is fine. “What are you doing all the way on this side of London?” 
Fred smiles and shoves his hands in his jeans pocket before replying, “Grabbing a drink with the lads tonight, love. What about you?” His tone is casual and Y/N has to stop herself from checking him out. He’s dressed in a nice dress shirt, it’s orange and on anyone else, it would clash with his hair but Fred somehow manages to pull it off. He’s got a black jacket over the top of his shirt, alongside black jeans that show off his long and muscular legs on and his outfit is paired off with a pair of boots on his feet. 
He’s not making it easy to get over him, that’s for sure. 
“I’ve got a date,” she’s shy when she says it, looking away from Fred and then back down at her phone. The time reads 6:47pm and Neville’s train will be getting in any second now. She’s trying to get over Fred and the last thing she needs is Fred lingering when said date turns up. 
“Ah yes, with Neville, if I remember correctly,” Fred’s teasing and Y/N has to force a laugh out. She blocked out the fact she’d accidentally messaged him instead of Neville and was hoping he would forget as well. But this is Fred she was talking about, and Fred never lets up a chance to tease Y/N for something.
“Yeah, Neville Longbottom,” she says and she catches the look of recognition that flashes across Fred’s face. “He was friends with your brother in school.” 
Fred nods in acknowledgement while he can’t decide whether or not he’s happy with the confirmation that he was right. He’s sad and jealous, that much is obvious, but he’s a little happy. Happy that even though Y/N is going on a date with someone who isn’t himself, it’s someone he knows would treat her like she deserves. 
“Neville’s a good guy, I’m happy for you,” he forces out and Y/N smiles up at Fred and he wants to sink into the Earth. The smile on her face is one he wants to be the cause for forever. “I should get going, tell Nev hello for me!”
He pulls Y/N into a quick hug, presses a quick kiss absentmindedly on the top of her head before letting her go and crossing the street and making his way to the bar he’s meeting Lee, George, Harry and Ron at. 
Y/N watches him leave, dumbfounded. The kiss on the top of her head is nothing less than usual; Fred’s always been touchy with her but now it feels weird. All she wants is to call out to Fred and demand the redhead take her on a date instead. 
But before Y/N can do anything drastic, she hears Neville call out her name and she turns around quickly. He’s just as sweet and cute as she remembers and even if she wishes Fred was the boy she was on a date with, Neville is someone she would be friends with above anything. 
“I hope you weren’t waiting too long!” He says when he reaches her, kissing her cheek as Y/N pulls him into a hug. His presence is comforting and he smells like cinnamon and Y/N feels herself instantly relax.
“Not too long!” She replies as she begins walking towards the restaurant with Neville. During Spring, the cold weather still returns at night so their hands are shoved inside their jacket pockets to keep warm but they’re walking closely together. “I ran into Fred just before, so he kept me company.”
“Good, I’m glad,” Neville says as he grabs the door to the restaurant, “can’t have a pretty girl waiting outside a subway station alone.” Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at his comment. 
They’re quickly seated and wine is ordered. They’ve been placed in a booth right near the window, where they’re able to watch the City of London go by. “How’s teaching going?” Y/N asks when she remembers Neville recently graduated and got an immediate job offer at the Agriculture department at a college in Surrey. 
“It’s going well! I specifically teach the floriculture courses so I love it, of course,” Neville’s smile couldn’t get any wider. Y/N specifically remembers his constant fascination with plants and flowers in school and she couldn’t be happier for him to be doing what he so clearly loves, “What about you?” 
“Being hammered by my postgrad coursework,” she says, laughing and taking a sip of her wine. “My job at the bookstore near my flat doesn’t suck but I definitely don’t work as much as I used to, unfortunately.” Neville raises his glass, almost to say I’ll drink to that when the waiter comes over to take their order.
Dinner goes quickly, conversation flows easily between the two and soon enough the bill arrives and Neville grabs the cheque before Y/N can even say anything. “You can grab it next time.” 
Y/N falters at this. She knows she should say something to Neville; that this has been nice but there won’t be a second date. She’s too caught up in her panic and she’s beginning to curse Fred Weasley under her breath when Neville gently places his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the restaurant. 
“Are you okay?” Neville asks when they get outside. He noticed the tensed look on Y/N’s face the second they got outside and when she nods and sighs he takes it as a sign to stop walking.
“This has been nice, Nev,” she starts and she feels terrible even though she knows it’s better, to be honest. “But I don’t think I’m-”
“Ready for a relationship?” Neville finishes for her, and he’s not condescending when he says it. He could tell even before dinner was finished that she probably felt that way and he doesn’t mind. “I don’t think I am either. But this was fun, was it not?” 
Y/N nods, smiling as the anxieties of hurting Neville wash away. “It was fun!” she says, “I hope we can do it again. Even as friends?” 
He nods back, a warm smile gracing his cheeks. “Of course.”
They walk back to the station together, promises of seeing each other again soon leaves their mouths as they walk to their respective platforms. 
From: Neville  > thanks for tonight. i forgot to mention, please tell me when you’re home safe!
She smiles down at the text, shooting Neville a reply of reassurance that she will before opening her messages with Em to let her know she’s on her way home. She’s jumping through her apps, Snapchat that she only uses for filters, Facebook she only uses to check the ‘Dogspotting’ group until she lands on Instagram. 
She sees a story from George and when she opens it, she immediately regrets it. It’s their friendship group, that much she expected but she sees a girl sitting next to Fred nursing what looks like a Gin and Tonic and Y/N feels sick. 
She immediately closes the app, pretending she didn’t see it. She has no right to be upset over this but it plagues her thoughts for the entire subway trip home.
That’s when she decides she’s going to demand answers from Fred. She doesn’t know how, or when or if she’ll even do it without Em forcing her to, but she knows she deserves better. That she doesn’t deserve to hang on the end of every touch, every word of Fred’s in hopes he’ll hold her closer than arm's length while she desperately wants more. 
-----
The next night, Fred’s laying on his couch in an uncomfortable position searching Netflix at 10pm when he hears a knock at the front door. He knows it isn’t George, or any member of his family for that matter and any normal person would ring before coming over this late at night. So when Fred gets up and looks through his peephole to ensure he’s not about to be murdered, he’s shocked to see an angry-looking Y/N.  
He opens the door and she’s immediately inside, pushing past Fred’s body and when she turns around, she has the most determined look on her face he’s ever seen. 
“I’m annoyed at you.” Fred’s taken aback, he tries to think back at their interaction the evening before, trying to piece together anything that would annoy Y/N but he’s coming up blank.
“What did I do?” He wearily asks and when Y/N purses her lips together and looks like she’s about to cry Fred has to resist the urge to apologise without knowing what he needs to apologise for.
“I’m annoyed at you because,” she pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I’m annoyed because I went on a date last night. I went on a date with the loveliest man I’ve ever met. And I spent the whole fucking time wishing I was on a date with you. And I’ve spent all of today debating coming over here and telling you that so I drank half of Em’s bottle of wine for some liquid courage and here I fucking am!” 
That’s the last thing Fred was expecting to come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Well, that’s not-” 
“I’m not finished.” She stares at Fred and he immediately shuts up. 
“I’ve been in love with you for years and it’s not fair on me anymore, Freddie.” Her voice is shaking like she needs to get everything out as soon as possible. “I need to know if you feel anything for me, even in the slightest, because if I need to move on, I’m begging you to be honest with me.” 
Fred feels his heartbreak at how sweet, how broken, how defeated Y/N looked standing in front of him right now. He can see the need for an honest answer swimming in Y/N’s eyes and he’s never felt braver to admit his feelings than he does right now.
“I’m an idiot,” Y/N scoffs but lets him continue, “because I didn’t realise how fucking in love with you I am until I almost lost you. I thought…” he pauses, looking for the right words and when his eyes meet Y/N’s, there’s a softness there that wasn’t there previously. “I thought what we had was normal; the cuddling, the constant need to be with each other, the constant subtle touches. But George knocked some sense into me.” Y/N lets out a breath as she laughs, of course, it was George’s doing.
“I’m in love with you, and I think I have been since we were 17. So I’m so fucking sorry, for ever letting you think you meant any less to me, my love.” 
Y/N’s eyes are overflowing with tears at his words and Fred panics for a second before he sees the biggest and most loving smile overtake Y/N’s face. “Fucking hell, you big dummy.” 
She crosses the room, quicker than she’s ever moved before and pulls Fred’s 6’3 frame into her arms. She feels Fred pull her away, only slightly, so he can look down into her eyes and cup her cheek with his hand. His thumb is providing comfort as it strokes across her cheek and wiping away any stray tears. 
She cups the outside of his hand with her own and brings her face to the side to kiss his palm. This is the closest the two have ever been and both their hearts feel like they could beat out of their chests at any moment. It’s the adrenaline from this moment that causes Fred to blurt out his next question, without any hesitation.
“Can I please kiss you before I die?” 
Y/N laughs as she looks up at Fred. She doesn’t even give him an answer, she just pulls the tall boy down before locking their lips together. They’ve both kissed plenty of people, had many first kisses whether it be with first dates or partners but they can both agree this is the best kiss either of them has ever experienced. 
Y/N is pouring everything she can into the kiss, knowing she will never get tired of the taste of caramel that she will forever associate with kissing the love of her life. She presses her lips harder against his, her tongue running along Fred’s chapped lips asking for more before he opens his mouth to massage his tongue with hers. 
Fred decides to be a tease, pulling back slightly before capturing her lips again and biting her bottom lip slightly. This action pulls a moan from Y/N’s throat, soft enough that Fred almost misses it but he can’t help but smirk into the kiss. He wants nothing more than to kiss Y/N for the rest of his life, but eventually, he has to pull away to catch his breath and the whine that leaves Y/N’s mouth might be the cutest sound he’s ever heard in his life. 
“I hope to God you know I’m never letting you kiss anyone else ever again, holy shit,” she says, cheeks flushed red and when she looks at Fred she thinks she’s fallen even further in love with him. His hair’s messy, thanks to her running her hands through it and his lips are slightly swollen. She thinks this might be the most beautiful she’s ever seen Fred in her life and if this is how gorgeous he looks after a few minutes of kissing, she’s secretly anticipating how gorgeous he’s going to look laying in her bed, naked. 
Fred smiles dopily down at her, “Don’t worry darling, I never want to be with someone who isn’t you ever again.”
393 notes · View notes
xjoonchildx · 4 years
Text
greedy | myg x reader | chapter one: you like milkshakes?
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summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut
rating: 18+
word count: 4.3K
notes: confession, i am struggling these days with my insane attraction to min yoongi.  this guy has it all.  looks and talent and mystery and sweetness -- he’s the total package. so i really wanted to give him a story in this AU that i’ve come to love so much and i truly hope you guys enjoy it.  
i also hope you guys know how much i appreciate every single one of you. i see your reblogs and comments and likes and i try to answer every one because it truly makes my day.  you guys make my day.
i could not post this fic without shouting out the amazing @hobi-gif because honestly, if hope didn’t read it, did i even write it? and i’m sending major love to three people who are such a source of laughter and support for me, @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna @taetaewonderland. you guys keep me in stitches.
this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece! Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05
*************************
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Yoongi had fucked up.
He’d misread the massive man’s approach, tracking him in one direction when the guy was actually headed in another.  That’s how the asshole managed to catch Yoongi off guard with one meaty fist to the face. 
It didn’t matter that it was hundreds of pounds of fat -- not muscle -- behind that punch.  It was wielding more than enough momentum to blow up the side of Yoongi’s face like a bomb. 
That’s the night he landed in the ER at Songdo at nearly two in the morning, pressing gauze to his bleeding face.  
That’s the night he found himself chuckling inside an empty exam room, reading triage paperwork that made him sound like some kind of war hero instead of just an idiot who got caught looking the wrong way.
That’s the night he met you.
“Rough evening, Mister Yun?” 
Yoongi had looked up from the floor just as you’d breezed into the room, tablet in hand.  That moment marked the second time he’d been caught off guard that night.
“That looks like it hurts,” you’d murmured sympathetically, eyes raking over the bloody mess on his face.  Your gaze was clinical -- professional -- as you assessed his grossly swollen eye and the half dozen bleeding cuts that surrounded it.  
But then you’d stopped looking at him -- and stepped back to really look at him.  
Yoongi had taken one look at your enormous, dark eyes and your soft, sweet face and he was dumbstruck.  He’d blinked back at you with the only eye that could still move.  
“You’re a doctor?”
“Nope,” you’d replied casually, turning to reach for a pair of latex gloves. “I’m a janitor. But I’ve always wanted to give this medicine thing a try. You don’t mind, right?”  
Your eyes had sparkled then, bright with humor -- and Yoongi couldn’t help but grin despite the pain pulsing from the left side of his face.
“Here’s the deal, Mister Yun,” you’d said, pulling on your gloves.  “I’m a resident.  And I’m more than qualified to handle the -- situation -- on your face, but if you feel more comfortable waiting for the attending, I’m happy to step back.  Good luck seeing him before sunrise, though.”
“Nah,” Yoongi had chuckled.  “I think I’ll take my chances with you.”
“Good call.”
You’d leaned in close after that, gloved fingers firm under his chin as you turned his face from side to side.  You’d smelled fucking amazing.  The light, fresh scent that lingered on your skin sure as hell beat the disinfectant odor in this place.
“What happened to you tonight, Mister Yun?”
“It’s a funny story, actually.”
“Oh, great,” you’d said dryly.  “‘Cause it turns out, I love funny stories.”
Yoongi had flinched when you’d peeled the gauze back, exposing the angry wounds to the air.  But he’d forced himself to sit dutifully still as you got to work cleaning the caked blood off his face and eye.
“Thing is, I work for the circus,” he’d started, hissing under his breath when you swiped across an open cut above his eye.  “One of the elephants got rowdy while we were practicing a number tonight and just kicked me right in the face.”
You’d stopped dabbing at his eye then, one brow raised and a cynical slant to your mouth.
Yoongi liked that you knew he was full of shit right away. 
He liked that you’d played along anyway.
“God, I hate when that happens,” you’d said with feigned outrage, cutting your eyes at him as you dropped a piece of bloody gauze on the tray at his side.  
“I know, right?”
That’s when Yoongi had won a real smile from you, wide and genuine.  That's when Yoongi made the mistake of looking at you for just a moment too long.  
He knew it by the way your smile fell away as you cleared your throat and turned your focus back to his damaged face.
“Well, I have good news for you Mister Yun,” you’d said after a while, eyes scanning the freshly cleaned wounds.  You’d run your gloved fingers gently over one particularly deep slash over his eye and Yoongi felt a shudder run up his back.  “I’m pretty sure you’re going to live.”
“Well, that is good news.”
There was that smile again.  
It seemed like no time at all before you had him all patched up -- cuts sanitized and sealed with skin adhesive; swollen eye cleaned and medicated.  Yoongi had felt a strange kind of disappointment as he’d watched you gather your supplies, pull your gloves off and drop them in the trash can near the door.
“You’re all set, Mister Yun,” you’d murmured. “Watch out for those elephants, okay? I’d hate for them to ruin a perfectly nice face.”
Then you were gone.
***************************
Thing is -- Kim Namjoon is a rules guy.
It doesn’t matter that he runs a criminal organization -- or that the men in his employ are gangsters in custom ties and suits.  He expects dirty work done clean because that’s what sets the Gajog apart.
Rotate hospitals.  Use fake names.  Pay in cash.
All of those protocols are in place to keep any one of the Gajog from drawing unwanted attention.  Truthfully, Namjoon’s operations usually run so neatly his men rarely have to seek treatment for anything beyond the occasional black eye or broken bone.  That’s why he’d rather trust his men to legitimate doctors in legitimate hospitals than hand them over to some back-alley hack.
Thing is -- shit has gotten a lot more heated of late.  
An audit of the Gajog books has turned up millions in missing won, stolen over time by street-level guys all over the city.  Yoongi and Hoseok are the ones on the front lines, tasked with confronting those men -- getting them to pay and getting them back in line.
Sometimes they play ball.  Sometimes they don’t.
Tonight is one of those nights.
Yoongi knew the moment they arrived at the crumbling warehouse in the Nowon district that shit was probably going to get messy.  Their contact was fucked up -- sloppy drunk -- and belligerent from the jump.
After that, everything was a blur.
At some point during the scuffle, Yoongi heard his hand crunch under the heavy weight of the man’s steel-toed boot. The pain was still flaring hot from his knuckles when Hoseok finally took the guy down.  
Right now Yoongi should be at Asan or Gachon or any of the other half-dozen hospitals in the city.  He should have dragged his tired ass and bloody hand across town because those are the rules.
But instead -- for the second time in a month -- he’s sitting under the sickly fluorescent lights in an empty exam room at Songdo at nearly three in the morning.
Hoping to see you. 
*************************
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Yoongi is gingerly flexing his aching fingers when a light knock sounds at the door.
It was a long shot that you’d be here tonight -- and an even longer shot that you’d be the one treating him. But when the door to the exam room opens, it’s you on the other side.
Yoongi’s pulse picks up in response.
“Sorry to keep you waiting tonight Mister -- ”  you stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide on his before darting back down the tablet in your hand.  You scan the screen slowly then look back up, gaze critical.
“ -- Mister Woo.”
“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi replies casually.  “It’s no problem.”
You approach him slowly then, disbelief etched into your delicate features and Yoongi takes in every detail.
It’s like he’d forgotten how pretty you are since the last time he saw you.
You’re nothing like the flashy women who like to hang around the usual Gajog haunts.  You’re the kind of pretty that doesn’t cost hundreds of thousands of won a month to maintain.  The kind of pretty that doesn’t come off at the end of the night. 
Yoongi swallows thickly as you eye him, lips parted like you’re about to fire off a hundred different questions.  But you don’t.  
You play along.  
Again.
“Right.  Let’s get to it then, Mister Woo,” you say carefully, slipping on your gloves.  “What happened to your hand?”
“Well, you see, I’m a hot air balloon operator.”  
His mouth quirks into a smile and your eyes flash in response.  
“Wind was nuts today and the basket came down on my hand.  I think I might have broken something.”
“Hmm,” you murmur.  “Hot air balloon operator, huh?”
Yoongi winces when you take his hand between your gloved ones, gently applying pressure to each knuckle.
“Yeah.”
“That’s an interesting way to make a living, Mister Woo.”
Yoongi chokes down a groan when you press against one particularly sore spot.  You back off the pressure, turning to make a note on your chart.
“Well, I’m an interesting guy,” he whispers.  
You look up at him then, dark eyes focused and intense.  
“That you are.”
You’re looking at Yoongi like you can see inside him and the scrutiny makes him squirm.  He lowers his eyes to the floor and keeps quiet while you clean his hand and apply ointment to his cuts.
“Mister Woo, it looks like most of these are surface abrasions, but the knuckles concern me.  I’m going to have to send you for an X-ray.”
“Yeah, okay.  It hurts like hell.”
“I bet it does,” you say quietly, typing into your tablet.  “Someone is going to come and take you back when they’re ready.  I have to go check on some other patients, but I’ll be back when we have some images to go over.”
“Sure,” Yoongi breathes.
You take another long look at him before standing to leave and Yoongi wonders for a moment if he’s made a mistake. Maybe he’s misread you like he misread that brawler who caught him with the nasty punch all those weeks ago.  
You could be off to flag a security guard.  Or leaving to call the police.
He really should have just followed protocol.
Yoongi sits in the quiet of that exam room waiting -- ready -- for trouble that never comes.  Because when a knock finally sounds at the door, it’s not the Korean National Police.  
It’s the X-ray technician.
Maybe he didn’t misread you after all.
*********************
It takes hours for you to come back.
“Mixed news tonight, Mister Woo,” you say upon your return.  “You have hairline fractures in three of your knuckles, which explains the pain.  Unfortunately, that means I’m not going to be able to do much for you beyond wrapping your hand.”
Yoongi nods.  “Got it.”
“And you should probably lay off the ballooning for a while,” you say under your breath as you lay out your bandages.  “Just a suggestion.”
“Good idea,” Yoongi chuckles.  “Safety first.”
You fix him with another one of those long, indecipherable looks before getting to work on his hand.  But you don’t say anything and the longer the silence stretches on, the antsier Yoongi feels.
“So…” he exhales, clearing his throat, “... you like milkshakes?”
“Everyone likes milkshakes,” you return evenly.  You don’t take your eyes off his hand or the flexible material you’re carefully wrapping around his sore knuckles. 
“Lactose intolerant people don’t like milkshakes.”
“Lactose intolerant people like milkshakes as much as the rest of us,” you argue.  “They just can’t tolerate them.”
“What are you, some kind of doctor?”
Your lips quirk with the threat of a laugh you manage to suppress but Yoongi catches the expression before it disappears.  You seem to relax after that.  He does, too.
“Dijeoteu has the best milkshakes in the city.  Ever been there?”
“Can’t say that I have,” you admit, taping off a bandage.  
“It’s not far from here.  Open twenty-four hours.  I hang out there sometimes.”
“So you’re a milkshake-drinking hot-air balloon enthusiast,” you murmur, inspecting your handiwork closely.  “Anything else I should know about you, Mister Woo?’
Yoongi scratches the back of his neck with his free hand.
“Not really.  That about covers it.”
You hum thoughtfully under your breath as you finish wrapping the bruised knuckles.
“All done.  How does it feel?”
“Better,” Yoongi admits.  “Thanks.”
You gaze at him then, thoughtful -- expression soft with something that looks almost like concern.  Yoongi drops his gaze down to his bandaged hand.
This is the part where you’ve finished -- the part where you leave.  
This is the part where he should say something to you but he has no idea what or how.
“I would say come back soon, but this is a hospital and that seems wildly inappropriate,” you announce, voice breaking clear through his stupor.
You turn back to him just as you’re walking towards the door, and for a moment Yoongi thinks you’re going to give in and ask him any one of the dozens of questions that must be swirling around your mind.
But you don’t.
“Try to take care of that hand, Mister Woo.”
Yoongi nods.
“Thanks, Doc.”
**********************
YOU
Doctor Lee is on his Houdini shit tonight, apparently.
The ER is packed -- waiting room crowded with crabby patients -- and you are, once again, running yourself ragged to get to every last one.  Lee is, once again, nowhere to be found.
“Page him again,” you call out as you pass the charge nurse outside an exam room.  
A quick scan of your tablet confirms the toddler behind this magic door has been vomiting all night.  You shut your eyes and wish a slow, violent death on your absent attending.  Vomit is the single worst phenomenon in medicine.
“I’ve paged him three times,” Nurse Ko calls back.
“Page him again,” you repeat, forcing a smile and pushing into the room.
Thirty minutes and one change of scrubs later you are checking charts on the next patient in line.  You pat the pocket of your new scrubs and realize you’ve left a half-eaten energy bar around here somewhere.  
No chance you’ll get that back.
Lee picks this moment to reappear, back from doing God knows what.  He strolls down the hallway like a man with nothing on his to-do list.
“You paged for me?” he inquires casually.
“A few times, actually,” you mutter.  “I’m getting killed out here.”
“Relax,” Lee purrs, condescension dripping from his tone.  “We’ll get it done.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from firing back the half-dozen nasty responses that spring to mind. There is no we when it comes to Doctor Lee.  He’s always been flighty and inconsistent, but these days he’s practically a missing person.  You’re still not sure how hospital management hasn’t figured out that he’s making his resident run the overnight ER.
“There’s a guy down the hall who says he swallowed a magnet,” you say, waving a hand in that direction.  “If you can pick him up I can get to this head trauma.”
Lee sighs like it’s a major inconvenience that you’ve asked him to do his job.
“Yeah, I’ll grab it.”
***********************
It’s nearly four in the morning by the time you have a chance to catch your breath.
You walk out to scan the waiting area and to your relief, there are only a handful of patients yet to be seen.  Then your eyes land on one young man -- slumped into a chair in an oversized coat, hat pulled low over his eyes.
You freeze.  
The man in the chair must feel your stare from across the room because he straightens, giving you a better look at the face hidden under the brim of his hat.  You let go of a breath you don’t realize you’ve been holding.
It’s not him.  
It’s not the mysterious man with the fake names and the bogus stories and the insanely handsome face. You shake your head as you look back down at your tablet, silently chastising yourself for even entertaining the thought.  
You shouldn’t still be thinking about this guy and you know it.
But it’s driving you nuts that you can’t figure him out.
He’s never tried to play you for pills and that seems to be the only thing people lie about these days. But if his problem isn’t drugs it’s certainly something because no one lands in the hospital that many times, with that many phoney stories unless they’re up to no good.
So you ignore the nonsensical disappointment you feel when the guy in that chair is not the guy. 
Because deep down you know he’s either in trouble -- or he is trouble.
***********************
Your pager goes off for a second time and you silence the alert, tossing it onto a nearby blanket.
It’s not like you’re hiding out in here -- not really. 
It’s just that you’ve already had one patient cough up blood on your sneakers and another swing at you when you refused to give him narcotics, so this night is off to a spectacularly bad start.
Besides, Doctor Lee could use a taste of his own medicine.  
This week has been the worst, by far.  You’ve been seeing at least three patients to his every one and you’re exhausted.  If there’s any justice, he’s walking into the exam room where the infant with explosive diarrhea is waiting to be seen -- you check your watch -- right about now.
The door to the linen closet cracks open and you groan, hiding your face in your hands.
“What, you thought I didn’t know about your little hiding place?”  Nurse Ko asks with a grin.  “I find everyone’s hiding place, eventually.”
“Haven’t found Lee’s yet,” you gripe. 
“Yeah, well he’s sneakier,” she laughs.  “Here, I brought you something.”  
She tosses a granola bar at you and it lands in your lap.  
“Thanks,” you sigh, ripping it open.  You take a bite and Ko leans against the doorframe.
“I don’t page you for my health, you know.”
“I know,” you whine around a mouthful of dried oats.  “I just needed five minutes.”
“Well, I’ve got a guy out here who says he’ll only see you.  Doesn’t want Doctor Lee and says he’ll wait as long as it takes.”
A piece of the granola bar lodges in your throat and you cough around it, spluttering while Ko looks on, amused.  She waits for you to collect yourself.
“Is he -- ”
“ -- hot? Yes. Very,” Ko smiles.  
Your cheeks flame with embarrassment at both the observation and the fact that it’s coming from a woman in her sixties.
“I was going to say young,” you grumble, standing and dusting your hands off with a towel.
“That, too.  Come to think of it, I know I’ve seen him here before.  You have some kind of admirer, jagiya?”
You flush.
**************************
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“Good evening, Mister Kim.”
You hope the air of nonchalance you affect when you enter the exam room is enough to mask your jitters.  
Your mystery patient looks back at you with those dark eyes and a half-smirk that makes your heart trip in your chest.  You take a steadying breath as you look down at your tablet.
Get it together, girl.
“What brings you in tonight?” you inquire lightly.  “Sword-swallowing accident?  Lose a fist fight with a bear?”
Your mysterious patient chuckles under his breath.  
“Where would you get a couple of outlandish ideas like that, Doc?”
You look up at him just as the teasing smirk on his face becomes a full smile and heat blooms in your chest and face.  You force yourself to tear your gaze away.
“I dislocated my shoulder.  Did you know I work air traffic control at Incheon?”
You shake your head with amused weariness as you make notes on your tablet.
“Crazy night.  One of the planes nearly slid off the runway and I threw my shoulder out trying to get it back on track.”
“Did you save it?”
“Saved it and all 227 people on board.”
“Bravo, Mister Kim.” 
“Just doing my job,” he shrugs.  
You set your tablet down on the exam table with a thump, eyeing him as you reach for a pair of gloves.
“The charge nurse says you asked for me.”
“I did,” he admits.  “You never told me what your favorite kind of milkshake is.”
You cock your head to the side as you look at him.  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mister Kim,” you murmur, feigning ignorance. “According to my records this is the first time I’ve ever seen you.”
“Oh, yeah.  Right,” he chuckles.  
“You need some help getting undressed?”
“Yeah,” he admits, slipping one arm out of his leather jacket.  You lean in to help him pull the other side off, compelling yourself to ignore the way he smells like soap and sweat and man when you’re this close.
“It’s strawberry.”
You blurt the words out, anxious to give your brain a task that doesn’t involve analyzing this man’s smell.  Something about the mischievous twist to his mouth tells you he knows you’re flustered by his nearness.  
“I would have guessed chocolate,” he muses, reaching one hand down to grab the hem of his shirt. He drags it up his abdomen and you will your eyes to stay on his face -- refusing to give him any indication that you have more than a clinical interest in what lies underneath.
“Everyone likes chocolate,” you argue, taking over when he can’t get the shirt up any higher.  You push it over his head and carefully work it off his shoulder.  “I don’t want to be like everyone else.”
“Mission accomplished, Doc.”
He gazes at you then -- chest bare and eyes sharp beneath those inky lashes --  and you feel a bolt of awareness run the length of your spine. You pray the heat you suddenly feel all over your body is not manifesting in damning spots of color on your face.  
You remind yourself to get back to work. 
He sucks a breath between his teeth when you press gently against the inflamed muscle and tissue.
“My shoulder’s been shit for years,” he confesses.  “I screwed it up when I was a kid and it hasn’t been the same since.”
“So this happens to you from time to time?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then I’m going to have to refer you for an MRI,” you say, and he groans when you press into his shoulder again.  “There could be a lot of scar tissue in here, but I won’t be able to know what’s going on until we get some clear scans.”
Your eyes flick back to his.  
Every word that’s ever come out of this man’s mouth is a lie -- but there’s something that feels honest about the way he’s looking at you right now.  Something that makes you feel seasick, unsteady.
“Turn to the side for me,” you say quietly, and the thin paper that lines the exam table rustles as he complies.  The relief you feel when he pivots away from you with those eyes and that look is whole-bodied.  
“For now, the best I can do is probably pop -- “
Your words trail off as your eyes lock on a wound that sits just a few inches from his spine, just above the line of his jeans.  The edges are white and soft with age -- the area long-healed -- but the trauma is unmistakable.  
Textbook.  
The anger you feel as you stare at the wound doesn’t make any sense.  
But you feel it anyway.
“Is it still inside of you, or did they pull it out?”
“What -- ”
“-- The bullet Mister Kim,” you interrupt sharply.  “If it’s still in you, I promise it will come out the second they load you into an MRI machine.  The hard way.”
The muscles of his back flex as he stiffens.  Tension bleeds into the lines of his body and into his voice when he finally speaks.
“It’s out.”
Neither of you says another word.
The room feels hollow now, painfully quiet without talk of elephants or hot air balloons or milkshakes.  The two of you work together silently to crack his abused shoulder back into place.  Somehow he manages to endure that pain without making a sound.
In the end, it’s you that has to speak first.
“That should hold you for now,” you say tightly, standing to toss your gloves in the trash.   You grab your tablet to make notes.
“You mad at me, Doc?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mutter, fingers flying over your screen.  “I don’t even know you.”
“Then why does it feel like you’re mad at me?”
You tear your eyes away from the screen to find his.  
There’s no teasing or humor there anymore.  He looks boyish and unsure like this, peering back at you with somber eyes from beneath long black bangs that have fallen into his face.
“No more stories, no more bullshit.  Tell me who you are.”
The words are out of your mouth before you can think better of them -- before you can consider how stupid it is to interrogate a complete stranger with a now confirmed history of violence.  Before you can consider that you have no right to the anger that now streaks white-hot through your veins.
“I can’t,” he breathes quietly.  “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head in disgust.
“Are you dangerous?”
Before he even speaks, you get your answer.  You get it in the way color erupts across the bridge of his nose and cheeks.  The way he looks away from you and down to his hands.
“I guess that depends on who you ask,” he whispers.
“I’m asking you,” you fire back.
He doesn’t answer.
You stand there for what feels like an eternity, waiting for him to say something in his defense. Waiting for him to pull another gag and tell just one more ridiculous story.  But the seconds tick by and he says nothing.
“A nurse is going to come by with a sling. She’ll help you get dressed, too,” you say tightly, walking to the door.
You don’t know why your heart feels like it seizes in your chest when you turn to give him one more look.
“Take care of yourself, Mister Kim,” you say quietly.  “And don’t come back.”
*****************************
Glossary:
Dijeoteu: dessert
Jagiya: sweetie, sweetheart
*****************************
Tag List!
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thran-duils · 3 years
Text
Use All of Me (P.1)
Title: Use All Of Me (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 2,132 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death Author’s Notes: This relationship is going to go ~downhill~ from healthy really quick. Please do not read if that is going to offend you.
Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
You hiked the sides of your swimsuit up higher, further accentuating your ass. A man had been watching you for the better part of the evening at the party you and a couple of your friends were attending. It was an upscale pool party, one with a list you had managed to get yourselves on at the last club event last weekend you had attended. You had made friends with the right girl, she had found you three entertaining and wanted you to be at this party. She had stopped by earlier in the evening, exchanging some laughs and pointing out where the bar was and also who to go to if you wanted to have some extra fun for a little extra cash. You had declined on that offer – you were not familiar with this place and it being your first time, you did not want to risk rolling and potentially making a fool out of yourself.
Your drink was placed on the bar and you tipped your glass towards the bartender. Walking back from the bar, you made sure to not cast a glance in his direction. You found playing hard to get was far more advantageous than acting desperate in circumstances like this.
You sat back down on the edge of the pool, your back to the man, where your friends were sitting with their legs dangling in the water.
“Who are you showing the goods off for?” Yua asked you, curious.
Shrugging nonchalantly, you said, “There’s a guy.”
She giggled, giving you a nudge, “Who? I promise I won’t be obvious.”
You took a drink, letting her simmer in anticipation for a few moments. “Hmm. He’s a dirty blonde, a suave, combed back style. Looks really muscular underneath that dress shirt. I wouldn’t doubt if he owns some Ray Ban aviators. It would really complete the look.”
True to her word, Yua was being discreet, eyes gazing over the crowd casually.
“There are a few…” she said slowly and then trailed off. Her head snapped towards you and she said, “Do you mean the one who can’t stop looking over at you?”
“I’m sure that’s him,” you smirked. “If he’s in a booth with a few other people.”
It was Natalie’s turn to look around. She let out a low whistle, bringing her glass to her lips.
“You don’t approve?” you asked.
She scoffed, “You do know who that is, correct?”
“Steve Rogers,” you told her as a matter of fact, which caught her off guard. Of course you knew who he was. Who did not know the Avengers? They protected the world but considering the work they did, they were given a lot of leeway about their other lucrative ventures. Money and protection were a part of their sphere, and it ran dark side, with a nasty underbelly. How deep it went was a big question for anyone not in the underground.
You shot a look over your shoulder, meeting his piercing stare. He smirked at you, and you blushed. Partially in embarrassment but also arousal. Well, this was going to make tonight interesting you hoped. Facing your friends again, you chirped, “Maybe he’ll buy me drinks. He certainly has enough money to drop some dollars.”
“Yeah, I am not sure that is such a great idea, Y/N,” Natalie said warily.
“Oh, if he’s on my same page, I’m just looking for a fun night. What the hell could happen?”
“A lot,” Natalie said sourly. Yua and you snickered. She said, “I’m serious. You don’t know what he’s involved in. Not truly.”
Yua told her, “I’m sure whatever business he has can hold off for one night if he wants to give Y/N some vitamin D.”
“You’re so childish,” Natalie muttered, the two of you chortling at Yua’s joke, much to her annoyance.
A shadow fell over the group of you from behind, causing the trio of you to turn around, craning your necks. A burly man was standing there, not one that you recognized.
“Mr. Rogers is requesting your audience,” he said to you in greeting.
You shot Natalie a self-satisfied smile. She returned a frown, disapproving. You knew her worries were valid, who really did know what kind of trouble you could get caught up in. But really, what could one night do? Still, going to a table with a bunch of mobsters did set you the slightest bit on edge.
“Audience…?” you trailed off, trying to be coy.
Natalie sighed, “Oh, Y/N, you know what he means.”
You smirked at Natalie before telling the man, “My friends are smarter than to let me go off with a strange man alone. Do you think it is possible they could join me? Just so I feel more comfortable?”
The man looked at loss for words for a few moments before clearing his throat, “Mr. Rogers specifically requested you, miss. He did not mention anyone else coming to his table.”
What a way to tell you no.
You exchanged a look again with Natalie and Yua. To the man, you said honestly, “Well, I will have to decline. I do not feel comfortable going alone. Tell him thank you for the invitation all the same.”
“O-oh,” the man stammered, struck uncomfortable by your refusal to go with him. He nodded jerkily, his hands clenching by his sides. “I… that is unfortunate. Well, I will… relay this to him. Good night then. And good night to you as well.” He nodded in the direction of Natalie and Yua as well in departure.
As soon as he was out of ear shot, Yua let out a small laugh. “He looked like you just signed his death wish, Y/N.”
“She very may well have,” Natalie told Yua gravely, which only made Yua snicker more. “I’m serious. Y/N just told an Avenger no.”
Scoffing, you asked, “What would you have had me do then? Go with him? I don’t think so. I was honest! I don’t feel safe going without the pair of you. Hanging out with him would be a thrill, sure. But it’s not smart without you guys. And I wasn’t rude about it.”
“I know,” Natalie sighed, picking up her drink again. “That was being stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
“Who knows? Maybe he’ll try harder now. Maybe he’ll even come over to you instead of ‘requesting your audience’!” Yua chimed in and snorted. “What a pompous thing to say.”
Natalie shook her head at Yua’s continued berating of the situation. “You two are too naïve for your own good.”
<> <> <>
Bryce returned to the table alone, much to Steve’s displeasure.
Steve narrowed his eyes, “Something wrong?”
“She said she was uncomfortable coming over without her friends because she doesn’t know you.”
Cocking an eyebrow, Steve said dryly, “And?”
“I’m not following, sir.”
“And why didn’t she just bring her friends with her?”
Bryce looked noticeably anxious at this turn of conversation. He stumbled, “Well… sir, I told her that you had not mentioned anyone else coming to the table. So… she then declined the offer.”
There was silence at the table. On Steve’s left, Tony’s lips ticked on a side as he tried to hide a full smirk by bringing his whiskey to his lips.
Licking his lips, Steve posed, “Bryce… did I say no one else could come to the table? Specifically?”
Natasha shot Bryce a coy look as she lit a cigarette. She was enjoying the exchange; she was not fond of him and never had been. She was curious why Tony and Steve even kept him around besides for his muscle. He was loyal; that was true enough. But he sure as fuck was dim.
“N-no, sir.”
Leaning forward over the table, Steve leveled him with a glare. “Get your ass back over there and invite her friends then.”
“Yes, sir. Of course,” Bryce said, before scattering.
<> <> <>
Steve’s breath was hot against your skin as he cradled you from behind. You had gotten preoccupied with looking at yourself in the full-length mirror outside his bathroom, fixing your hair, adjusting your breasts in your swim top. He had come up behind you, locking eyes with you through the mirror. His shirt was gone, and his bare skin caressed against yours as his fingers trailed down between your breasts, down your stomach to the waist band of your swim bottoms.
“You look perfect,” he whispered in your ear, nuzzling.
You had accepted his invination the second time his man had come around. Yua had been more than receptive to the prospect, Natalie following closely behind. She had gotten drawn in by Natasha, much to your amusement. Steve had been doting all evening, charming you with light conversation and compliments. Drink after drink until he asked you to come to one of the bedrooms, which is where you learned this was Bruce Banner’s house. Natalie had been too enthralled with Natasha’s beautiful eyes to notice Steve lead you away.
Turning around in his embrace, you faced him, arms draping around his neck. Steve’s hands trailed down the seams of your swimsuit before his fingers crept underneath, cupping your ass.
“I knew you were a good girl all the way across the pool,” Steve growled, rumbling low deep in his chest. Your hips moved with the way his hands floated across your sides.
Taking the reins – even for a minute – you pulled away, your hand trailing down his chest before falling away. You turned, walking towards the king bed, a saunter in your hips. Steve followed you like a well-trained dog, climbing on top of you as you laid back against the plush pillows. He rutted into you, his lips leaving bruising kisses against your jawline.
He gripped the hem of your swimsuit, yanking them down, and you finished the job by kicking them off. Traveling further, he brushed his fingers against your wet folds, his thumb brushing your clit. You keened, bucking towards him, desperate for more.
“For a minute there, I thought you were just trying to tease me for a thrill…” he said, trailing off. His fingers pressed in, stroking slowly and you whimpered. “But it looks like you were really looking for a good fuck.” He bit at your mouth and you dragged your teeth across his lips. He moaned in response. “You are a catch, aren’t you, doll face?”
You simpered at his old timey nickname, but you felt a rush at his attention.
Steve sat up, undoing the belt of his slacks and pulling out roughly, tossing it aside. His pants and briefs followed, kicking himself out of them. He pinned you to the bed, his weight pressing down on you. He trailed his lips down your chest, nuzzling his nose into your suit, finding your nipple and giving it a soft suck. You moaned lightly as his tongue swirled around, working you up. His fingers were back at your clit, stroking you in tandem with his eager mouth against your breast.
He only let you ride that rhythm for a short while before he straightened up, his hard cock brushing against your thighs. “Get on your stomach. Arch your back.”
You quickly obeyed, displaying yourself to him. He hummed in approval, running his thumb up your folds, causing you to shiver, before you felt him at your entrance. His cock slid in easily as his fingers wrapped up in your hair, yanking your head back to meet his eagerly waiting lips.
“Oh, I am going to use you all night,” he declared, his lips moving over yours.
You were surely going to be sore tomorrow.
Spent, you laid next to him, your arm draped over his chest in the tangled sheets. Both of your bodies were still covered in a sheen of sweat, but you were relaxed. There was a good ache between your thighs, one that you were going to remember for a long while. He sure was good in bed.
His fingers hooked up underneath your chin, tipping your head up to look at him. You smiled sensually in response, much to his arousal.
“Mhm,” he exhaled deeply, his fingers caressing your jawline affectionately. “You are going to give me a run for my money, aren’t you?”
He was talking like he was thinking this was going to turn into something more than a one-night stand. You played it cool.
“I wouldn’t say money per say, but… I’m sure to give you a run. An exciting one.”
“I look forward to it.”
Something about the glint in his eyes turned your stomach but you were far too comfortable wrapped up in his arms, the thrill of having him wrapped around your finger for the time being overriding any sense of caution.
484 notes · View notes
ackerfics · 3 years
Note
hange and their best friend (reader) "platonically" flirt with one another, they use pet names for each other, making others think they're together unintentionally. until reader finds an s/o, not knowing hange actually likes them
she — hange zoe
— hange zoe x female reader (modern au)
— warnings: angst ??? the stinging feeling you get when you see someone you love, love someone else
— summary: hange's best friend found love in the form of autumn while hange associates her with all of the seasons.
— word count: 2.5k
— notes: i love hange but i hate myself for writing something that hurts them :<<< they're my first love in aot and it pains me to imagine them hurting in any sort of way (which is probably the reason why i bawled my heart out in chap 132). this little fic hit too close at home for me bc it's exactly what i felt one time during high school. it's fucking traumatizing and istg, i don't want to relive falling in love with a friend again, it's like the most satisfying way to hurt, too. happy reading tho :<<<
reblogs are greatly appreciated!!
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She embodies everything positive in Hange’s eyes.
She is spring — the bursting of blossoms under the tendrils of sunlight seeping between the spaces of the trees in the woods. Every time Hange closes their eyes, they are reminded of how she signifies every single flower they ever know. She makes them feel everything at once — see every color at once in a single frame. There is no space for artistic abilities in Hange’s calloused, mismatched hands but when it comes to her, they can create a myriad of paintings encapsulating her beauty at every stroke of a brush. Her laughs, her flowery perfume that doesn’t hurt their nose, her smiles that are as radiant as the early morning Sun — are ingrained in their brain. She brings forth the butterflies that Hange carefully imprisoned in their ribs, the monarchs’ wings already seeping through the cracks at every joke she makes, reaching to their heart until every beat swayed to the sound of her giggles.
“Hange, the love of my life, there you are!”
Hange turned around with a huge smile on their lips. Their conversation with Levi came to an abrupt stop, with the shorter man mumbling along the lines of ‘here we go again’. The small smile on his face spoke otherwise while watching two of his closest friends hug each other as if they didn’t live together in an apartment right outside of campus. It was such a mystery that Hange could be so comfortable around someone to the point of playfully kissing their neck in public, followed by their best friend’s melodious laughs soon after. However, Levi couldn’t be fooled. He knew the glint in the brown-haired person’s eyes. The downturn of their eyebrows when their best friend wasn’t looking. The longing was apparent when she was talking to someone across the room.
The idiot going by the name Hange Zoe was irrevocably in love with their best friend, [Name] [Last Name].
“What is it, baby?” Hange asked vibrantly, glasses reflecting the equally excited girl in their arms. “Didn’t know your class dismissed this early. What happened?”
“Nothing. Our professor announced that we should visit a museum for our finals.” She then mimicked the haughty tone of her Art History professor, straightening her back to make herself appear taller. “Choose a painting or a sculpture and trace down its history and attach your critique in the final output. If I see anyone half-assing this paper, I will not hesitate to give a failing grade that will make you retake this class. I know you lot don’t want to see me again for another semester and I don’t want to see you again, too. So, prove to me you’re worth your standing in this course.” She cleared her throat. “What he said.”
Hange whistled. “Dang, I’m happy that I didn’t follow you to the Arts Department. Your professor sounds like a complete asshole.” They chortled the next second. “Sounds like my mom, to be honest.”
“At least your mom makes a bomb bento box.”
“Yeah, I guess, you’re right.” Hange then nuzzled their face in her hair. “But your bento boxes taste much more delicious — I could eat them all day. Can I be your partner so that you’ll cook for me every day?”
“I’ve already taken the position of your wife the moment I agreed to be your roommate in university, sweetheart. And I cook for you every single day so you don’t have to ask to be my partner because you already are.”
Hange looked smug at her reply, the heat in their cheeks traveling to their ears. “That was a rhetorical question but hearing those words come out of your mouth, it’s making me feel things.”
“Oh? What are those things?”
The brown-haired person snickered under their breath, glancing at Levi who was now looking at the two of them in that lazy way of his that might come off as him being annoyed again. In reality, he was only waiting for the two to finally stop flirting to recognize he was there. His daily job of being a third-wheel should’ve started fifteen minutes ago but Hange wouldn’t let [Name] go. Hange turned back to the expectant girl. “I don’t want Levi to hear what I’m about to say. Just expect something back at the apartment,” they joked, a cheeky smile tugging at their lips.
[Name] laughed heartily. “I’m looking forward to that, gorgeous.”
“I’m still here, you know?” Levi dryly made himself known. He huffed and turned around in the direction of the university restaurant. “Come on, lovebirds, let’s have lunch. Oh, and [Name]?” When he heard her little hum of acknowledgment, Levi slightly turned around to meet his friend’s eyes with his jaded ones. “It’s your turn to buy me a drink. Make it a venti today.” She only blinked at him, giving him no choice but to resort to that dumb thing she always asked. “Please can I have a venti this time? I got you and Hange a venti last time so this makes us even.”
“Ooh, make mine a venti, too, baby!” Hange squeezed their best friend’s waist.
“Anything for my sweetheart.”
“Again, I’m right here, you know.”
Just the thought of that little scenario hurts Hange.
But as much as the pain comes in the package, she is still summer in their eyes.
The Sun can’t compare to the brilliance of her smile. Kind smiles and gentle touches under the warm rays of the summer heat. Her scent is yellow to Hange — so bright and warm that they don’t care how long they bask in her presence, never caring if they get burned because it feels so right to be within her orbit. She urges them to feel so loved and so special, tender caresses of her warmth cascading down every vein until it reaches their heart. The cerulean waters of the sea hold nothing against the beauty of her grins, brown eyes searching for her every time of the day no matter how ethereal the world painted itself to be. Viewing the sights with rose-colored glasses is what they may call it but for Hange, it’s simply her. Someone once said that summer brings forth a paradise where blue covers everything in its wake, the cry of the seagulls reverberating in the distance, and the scent of ice cream flickers in the breeze. For Hange, summer is in the form of pretty close-lipped smiles, of late-night movie marathons on a worn-out couch, of bento boxes filled with their favorites, of a scent so saccharine, and a loyal friend.
A friend.
Of course. No matter where Hange goes, that word haunts them. Hidden beneath their smiles, their jokes, their longing, and admiring stares. It’s a reminder of where they stand in this limbo they created. At one point, they thought that line had been crossed only for it to be established again in permanent ink. And before they know it, Hange is tumbling down in a spiral, along with a change of seasons.
Fall is where everything started.
The orange glow of the leaves created the perfect view as she sipped on her tall cup of warm coffee. The blissful sigh that came soon after warmed up Hange, even though they were seated in front of each other in the outside tables of the small cozy café where Levi was working at. The chill brought by the autumn wind caused both of them to shiver in their layered clothing. The way she nuzzled more into her scarf made Hange coo, reaching out to pinch her cheek affectionately. Autumn was both their favorite season, how it made them resort to the comfort and warmth their sweaters bring, or how they cuddle in each other’s beds with the air conditioner blasting despite the cold. It was also a season where Hange could admire her in their hoodie, a piece of clothing that swallows her whole because she’s so small compared to their lanky figure.
Hange remembered being called out here because she wanted to talk about something. Now that they thought about it, her cheeks appear to be glowing more than usual and she kept glancing inside the café where Levi was busy telling his coworker how to make the new drink. Hange even went as far as following her gaze but they didn’t find anything out of the ordinary other than Levi sighing in that stressful way of his that always made them snicker. They turned back to their Sun, who was once again in a daze while staring at the clear windows of the café. “So,” they prolonged the syllable, “how’s life going, darling? I know we’re living in the same apartment but I just can’t help but ask you this because it seems like you’re always in a daze these days.”
A pause made the breeze’s call known.
“Hey, Hange, have you ever been in love?”
That spread the chill even more inside Hange’s chest. She called them by their name. Not sweetheart nor big spoon. The reality washed over Hange like a pail of freezing water.
“W-What?” Damn, they couldn’t keep the stutter off their words.
She turned her head to them, eyes so soft and smile so beautiful that made Hange breathless for one second. The butterflies dwindled, losing their iridescent wings when they realized that look wasn’t reserved for them anymore. “I thought about it,” she murmured, rubbing her numbing fingertips on the warm cup. “I have never fallen in love with anyone before. Sure, I love you and all our friends but I’ve never stopped and thought about how someone can look like starlight in front of me. But recently,” again, that pretty smile that pierced Hange’s chest, “I never knew that it could hit me that unexpectedly.”
Hange grinned despite the pounding of her chest. “So, who’s the lucky person?”
She chuckled, going back to staring at the interior of the café. “I told Levi to lay off on scolding her but he never listens, says she’ll never grow a backbone if he’s being considerate on her.”
Now, they’re confused because the only people manning the counter as she spoke was Levi (and she would never fall in love with Levi, seeing as they grew up together like siblings rather than the childhood friends that they are) and a strawberry blonde who looked like Levi’s become their worst nightmare. It took Hange a full minute to process that the person she’s been staring at was never their mutual friend, but the strawberry blonde who looked up towards their direction and waved with a pretty blush on their cheeks. She waved back with the same shyness, leaving Hange dumbfounded. “Wait, the person you’re in love with is—”
“Yeah, it’s her.”
Suddenly, Hange understands why she’s starting to like autumn.
It reminds her of the girl’s hair, which she gushes about smelling like coconut. It reminds her of the girl’s preferred perfume, how it smells so much like cinnamon, something that she sometimes puts in her autumn drinks because in her words, ‘it’s the perfect season rather than winter’. It reminds her of the girl’s hugs, the way both of them fit with each other like lost puzzle pieces.
But as the seasons change, feelings of long-term pining will always be constant.
“Are you okay, though?” Erwin asked them, blue eyes reflecting their pathetic faux smile. He pushed the plate of pasta to them since Erwin had an idea that Hange wasn’t eating that much now. It also worried [Name].
“Yeah, four-eyes, I know you’re not doing that great and I’m saying this in the friendliest way possible because we’re worried now,” Levi reminded them, sipping on his tea with slightly narrowed eyes. “You always decline whenever we want to bring you to somewhere, to the point of leaving Nanaba on voicemail. You always answer at the first ring. Look here, shitty four-eyes,” the way Levi enunciated the nickname made Hange slowly turn their head to him, face void of the smile they were known for, “shouldn’t you be happy for her? [Name] gained the courage to confess and you’re here moping when you should’ve been supportive—”
“And what of my feelings, Levi?”
That made Levi blink and feel like an asshole.
Then, the dam broke.
“I’ve been with her all this time, you’ve seen that. You witnessed how this shy girl opened up to an extroverted idiot and became one of her best friends during high school. It feels like I can’t fucking breathe because I always thought we were meant to be. When she was lonely, I was there to comfort her. When she got a bad grade on an exam, I was the one who knows what flavors of ice cream she wants or how she eats them together like a fucking milkshake. Every day, I never expected her to look my way like she looks at her girlfriend right now. It fucking hurts. It feels so empty to know that I’m not the one she fell in love with. What did I lack? Should I be sweeter and gentler like that girl? Or dainty whenever I eat like she is? Be girly and dress up like a doll? Fuck, I can’t even bring myself to hate her girlfriend. She’s so nice and kind and sweet, anything I’m not.” Hange buried their hands in their hair, making it messier than it was.
“I just want [Name] to love me and make things wonderful. Why isn’t Fate on my side this time?
“Why didn’t she choose me?”
Tears were now drifting down like snowflakes.
“Hange,” Erwin murmured.
“Look, sunshine, it’s snowing!”
A voice catches their attention. A strawberry blonde cheers the words with glee painted in her eyes. Beside her is the subject of the trio’s conversation, the subject of a brown-haired person’s affections. Her eyes are taking in the beauty that is her girlfriend. She looks so pretty in love — how her eyes crinkled at the corners and how snow clung on her eyelashes as if she is a fairy straight from a fairy tale Hange loves when she was a kid. Her girlfriend takes her hand and pulls her to the restaurant where the trio is watching from the windows. Gray and blue irises slide over a somber bespectacled person, gauging their reaction though their face never gives anything away.
“I’m right behind you, Petra. I just took the time to admire you because you’re so pretty under the snow.”
“Stop it! You’re prettier!”
“Did you know that seeing the first snow of the year together with the person you love, your relationship will rival that of eternity?”
“Then, I’m happy I get to see this first snow with you, sunshine.”
“Me, too, angel.”
Hange smiles under a steady stream of tears. “I’m happy for her. I’m happy she found happiness even if it’s not with me.”
The chill blows inside the warm walls of the restaurant the moment the door opens, [Name]’s joyous greetings for her best friends bringing smiles to two of them. Her eyes drift to brown ones before turning to Petra to ask for a pack of tissues since Hange’s tears are still visible. Hange watches the commotion with a small smile, the chill spreading through them like a snowstorm.
Winter is here.
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@angelofthorr
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Kaz Brekker x fem! Reader - Crows
A/n: I just thought about this one and I was like yasssss... (I know I'm weird I'm sorry) There's really no plot. Anyways... ya so just to clear this up this one is after crooked kingdom! Also I have part 2 to Captains? Coming up and! (Yes there's an and) I have another Kaz one going up soon here so that's that!
Warnings: (Kaz should be his own warning), language, trauma, blood, gore I think that's it? You have been warned!
Summary: Kaz goes on a mission and gets hurt
All rights go to Leigh Bardugo and you, I just own the plot!
I walk into Kaz's room without knocking because from what I gathered or thought we were way past formalities.
I guess not.
I walk in to see Kaz packing up some stuff into a small bag - always packing light but I never see clothes go into the (very) tiny sack. I sigh in annoyance and clutch my jaw.
"I thought you said you would tell me if you have a job?" I raise my eyebrow at him. He freeze's for a fraction of a second but then resumes back to packing like nothing happened, not even looking at me.
"I'm leaving for a job. I'll be gone for four days, in Shu territory." My eyes widen a bit.
"You hate boats." I whisper, but he just shrugs his shoulders like I'm just another one of his pawns. I dig my finger nails into my palms of my hands forming them into fists.
"Your going alone?"
He turns to face me swiftly not meeting my eyes.
"I'll be taking the crows."
I feel anger brew inside of me begging for an outlet, begging to be released. I stomp down on it.
"Didn't you guys said I was one of you?" I question calmly hoping that he doesn't say what I thinks he's going to say, to tell me I'm a child for believing that.
His dark brown eyes that look almost black snap to mine finally meeting my eyes.
And he says something worse.
"Your no use anymore." He simply replies calmly.
To hell with being calm, to hell with being patient. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just use me at his leisure. I want to scream, yell at him, but I know if I want to achieve anything here, that's not how this go's.
My eyes darken and I take a step forward.
"When you need me most I will be gone." I say deadly calm and turning on my heel I stalk out the door.
"Oh and if you were done with me, you could have just said so." I hiss.
With that I walk out his door.
____________TIME SKIP A WEEK LATER_______________________
I sigh as I go to enter the slat. The fuck why am I already here? I grumble to myself. Inej better have a good reason for calling me over here. Or at least some good kruge. Saints knows I could use some.
Anything to help... What?
Help with the pain that I made? I did leave Kaz and knowing him he'll probably never talk to me humanly again like he used to. I ball my hands up in fists. But the only reason why I did that is because he was acting like a jackass, and if he's going to act like that he lose's me.
His loss.
By the saints I'm even lying to myself.
I get up the stairs and I walk into inej's room (because that's where she told me she would be) and I open the door and ALL the crows (expect for Kaz) were there.
"Where's the body." I say in a monotone voice and put my hands on my hips and I let my annoyance seep through into my body language.
"It's - what no there's no body?!" Wylan says a bit traumatized though I do imagine this isn't the worse he's heard.
I roll my eyes. "Whatever it is get on with it."
Aren't you going to ask where Kaz is? A voice whispers evilly inside my head. I grit my teeth against each other. Don't think about him he's not important to you anymore.
"Well?" I raise my eyebrows.
They all glance at each unsure as to tell me whatever info they have. They seem to all fight silently till Jesper just gives in and says and turns to me.
"Kaz got injured."
My eyes widen and and just like that I'm flying out of the room sprinting towards Kaz's office I get there out of breath and I don't even bother knocking. I fling the door open and I close it quickly just in case and I step inside.
Kaz is on the bed looking pale his eyes are shut and he's not moving. It doesn't even look like he's breathing.
I place a head over my mouth in shock and I move closer to the raven haired boy on the bed. I kneel on the floor next to him and I feel tears well up into my eyes and I gently shake him awake.
"Kaz?" I whispered afraid of what the answer or the lack of answer really.
I hear a groan resonate from the boy and he slowly opens his eyes as he goes to sit up but I fling my arms around him and it takes everything in me not to sob into his chest. My brain tells me we're technically not on speaking terms but I could really care less in this moment. (Although I'll probably regret it later.)
Surprise fills Kaz's eyes and it probably also woke him up all the way now, because he looks like he's actually taking in his surroundings now.
He looks tried and black shadows lay under his eyes, I see little cuts along his neck and I am frighten to think what else happened while they were gone. He just looks so...
Defeated.
I unravel my arms from around him and fury boils beneath my skin into my very soul. Whoever did this to him is going to pay.
"Who did this." I say flatly and I let anger fill my voice.
Kaz sighs and puts a gloved hand through his hair.
"It doesn't matter." He murmurs.
"For saints sake Kaz! Of course it does! Damn it!" More tears well up in my eyes but I mentally push them away. Not now.
"No not really." Kaz grumbles.
"Not when most of the pain doesn't come from someone from Shu Han, it comes from you."
I freeze. The. fuck. Did. He. Just. Say.
"What-what?!" I whisper yell but he just smiles a bit and jesters towards the bed and I go to sit down on it across from him but he rolls his eyes.
"Don't make me come over there." Kaz says flatly and rolls his eyes at my seating position.
I half-crawl over to Kaz and I and I sit beside him awkwardly not wanting to trigger anything but he just sighs and puts an arm around me and tries to bring me closer. I wiggle away from him not wanting Kaz to see how distressed I am.
"Where's your wound." I whisper barley audible for anyone to hear but he just sighs and sits up all the way and dangles his legs on the edge of his bed. He takes off his shirt and throws it across the room and turns to face me.
I try not to let my eyes roam his bare chest but it's kinda useless. I sigh in my head now is not the time to be a horny teenager Y/n!
As a compromise I start from the top and try and find the wound as I try to commit everything to memory. I see his wound on right side of his stomach and I reach my hand out. I trance the outlines of it, but never touching it not wanting to cause Kaz more pain.
I look into his eyes dark eyes that melt into golden rays when the sunlight from the widow hits them, it's all the sunsets I could ever need.
"Do you need anything to warp it up." I say and I turn my head away not standing the silence.
"A healer came and did most of it."
I sigh, that coming from Kaz means yes but he isn't going to die without it just be in a lot of pain. With him not moving too much and when he does he tries to hide a wince he'll probably at least need it warped.
I get up from the bed and I go to his window sill. I open the window and Kaz looks at me and confusion fly's across his face and I just beckon him over. I turn back and I grin at all the crows that are around here.
Perfect.
I whistle out towards the open window:
Fweet.
Fweet.
Fweet.
Two crows land on the window sill and I smile internally.
Don't let him see what you did for the past week, not yet. Let him figure it out. A voice whispers in my head and for once in a life time I listen to it.
"Bring me, gauze." I point to the crow on the right.
"And bring me my pain reliever." I point to the crow on the left.
"You get ten minutes tops." I nod at the crows and (creepily) they nod back.
Kaz looks at me like I'm crazy, so to add to the flare I give him a crazed grin. He just rolls his eyes.
"What was that?" He raises his eyebrows and limps closer to me so out shoulders are touching.
I shrug my shoulders and I turn towards him.
"I got bored so I made some new friends. And then..." I pause for dramatic effect and I let a small secret smile jump onto my face.
"So I taught them some things."
He looks at me in disbelief, I giggle at him and I warp my arms around his middle.
The fuck am I doing! He has trauma!
I quickly go to remove my arms but he places his ungolved hands on them.
"It's okay." He breaths out. So I leave them there and I carefully place my head onto his chest. My hands go up, feeling his lean but very muscular back, till I warp my hands around his shoulders. I tilt my head to the side the tiniest bit but he gets the notion and nods his head. I go to lean in...
I'm frozen. I don't know what to do. What should I do?
Caw! Caw!
Two raven haired crows land on Kaz's office's window sill with gauze and pain reliever cream in it's beaks. I smile at them.
"Good job." I say as I toss them both some seeds and they go off and fly away.
I turn to Kaz with both the gauze and pain reliever cream and my hands and his face is just priceless.
"How the fuck did that work?!" Kaz whispers as I go to sit him down on his bed. I hesitantly put the pain reliever cream on his side and I quickly warp it up with some gauze.
"They can also talk some words so they can spy for me." I smile. "I thought it would be good, because then it means the dregs are every where and I just thought that maybe you would..." I trail off I remembering our fight.
"Your no use anymore."
Turning away from him and getting up, I cross my arms over my chest and I face away from him.
"I'm going to go." I say as I place my hand on the door handle.
"I'm sorry." Kaz blurts out. Slowly I take my hand off the door handle but not yet being able to face him.
"And what are you sorry for Kaz?"
I hear the bed and the floor broads creak and I hear his footsteps getting closer to me although they are labored.
"I'm sorry for pushing you away. I'm sorry for being there and then seemingly not caring anymore."
He takes another step forward, I can feel his breath fan out across my neck and it makes my knees feel weak.
"I'm sorry for saying you were useless." He takes another step forward and he places a hand on my shoulder. Tears well up in front of my eyes and my hands along with the rest of my body starts to shake. He slowly turn's me around so I'm facing him.
I lift my eyes up from the ground all the way up to meet his and I get lost in them.
I fall.
I fall into the deep never-ending abyss of his eyes. It's dark all around me, but it has a certain warmth to it and safety that I know I will never find anywhere else. As I fall I know I will never stop.
I don't want to stop.
I never want to stop falling in love with Kaz, I realize.
Kaz Brekker.
Are faces get closer and he brings a hand to my cheek and one to my waist.
"And I am sorry for making you feel, alone. Worthless. Because you mean so much to me." His voice cracks at the end of his sentence.
I place a hand on his arm and one goes up to his hair.
"Thank you." I whisper and the tears that I have been holding in finally release into silent sobs of joy and pain all in one.
Then our lips meet.
It's chaotic. It's messy. It's far from perfect.
But it's ours.
His love, I can feel it come through the kiss. All the things words could never say, never perform, are in this kiss.
It engulfs us both into an abyss of madness, and I know it's sounds crazy but if this is wrong, if this will only lead me onto a dark path, as long as Kaz is here then I don't care.
We finally separate when the need of air becomes too prominent. I giggle when a crow comes to land on Kaz's shoulder. I pet it and I look to Kaz knowing this is it.
This is what I want.
So holy crap? Kaz was a bit... but whatever it's fine! I think I might do a part 2 with the crows finding out their in a relationship or that's just going to be it's separate imagine idk. Also I might try writing for the darkling soon... 😈
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-Thedelusionreaderbitch
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supercorpkid · 3 years
Text
What the hell, you’re in hell.
Part 2 of T is for Trauma - The Series
Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader
Word count: 2040.
Warnings: kidnapping. Injuries. Angst.
Previously on the series – part 1
Things have not yet fallen into place with your moms. Of course that, as a family, sometimes you all say things you didn’t actually give too much consideration and end up kind of hurting each other’s feelings on the way. Most of the time, there’s a big apology, hugging and crying. You haven’t done any of those things during the night, and in the morning, you were kind of late for school so you didn’t have time to talk to them. To be fair, you didn’t even see them since your big blow out.
So, after school you say goodbye to Jamie, and decide to walk to L Corp. Since people are now paying more attention to the sky, you don’t want any more pictures of you flying around for a while. You don’t know how your momma pulls off not being recognized just by using glasses and a ponytail, but you sense you might not be able to do the same.
You’re on your way to L Corp to finally talk to Lena. You know that you hurt Kara too, but you did worse with Lena saying you didn’t expect better from her. That was shitty of you, and you know it.
Sure, there were also a bunch of things that you said that were totally true. Now that you think about it, you were only trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care that they never show up at your science fair, physics decathlon, or anywhere else in the school aside from the principal’s office to hear something bad about you. You don’t know why they stopped doing that when you got older, but not seeing their proud and loving face in a sea of people that hate you, really did a number on you.
Jamie has obviously noticed that this was the reason you left in the middle of the event, and she went all therapist Olsen on you and told you, you should tell them the truth. Tell them it hurts, that you miss them there, and apologize for saying it so aggressively.
So, your plan is talking to Lena first, and then buying some donuts and flying to CatCo right after, so you can talk to Kara. You could never know none of these plans would come true.
You’re walking, when you pass a black van parked close to the sidewalk and you feel something burning in your body. That’s so weird, you’ve only felt like this once. And only when you’re shot with a Kryptonite bullet.
You try to run, but your legs feel wobbly, and you can’t go very far before your legs give in and you fall on the ground. You look behind you, to a guy leaving the van, and going towards you. You take off your glasses to see inside the van, but you can’t see anything.
“Lex was right, Kryptonite always works.” You hear when the guy is in front of you, but you can’t see his face, it is covered with a black mask. You know they have kryptonite, but you have to call your momma for help. You put your hand on the watch and he notices your movement. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, child.” He easily lifts you up by the wrist, and takes the watch out.
He is not just a normal guy. You can see by the way he lifts you up like you weigh nothing. He either has super strength or some other kind of power.
“What do you want from me?” You manage to ask and he laughs right at your face. He walks back to the van, you’re still hanging a few feet off the ground, by the wrist. You look around to see if no one is seeing this clearly evil person carrying a girl to a black van, and your answer is that no one is. And the ones that are, certainly don’t care.
“Why would I want anything from a child?” He throws you in the van and you look around to see the kryptonite. It’s so close to you now, that you feel the burn going inside your bloodstream, and you whimper.
You look outside at the man’s hand, and you see him dropping your watch on the ground. He was smart, not to take it with him, ‘cause Kara could track you with it. Your hand goes instinctively to your necklace, as long as you still have that, Lena can track you.
“What do you have there?” One of the other guys notices your hand and tries to take it away from you. You fight, punching him with all the strength you have left, and he falls back with a hand on his nose. But you can’t fight all three of them, not while being exposed to Kryptonite. So, they snatch the necklace out of your neck and dump it on the street.
“No, please, no. It’s just a necklace, it’s my grandmother’s necklace, please.” You cry out, but they take no pity. They close the van and drive you away for good.
You want to take the high road, you really do. You want to go quietly and pretend that you don’t care about the fact that you’re being kidnapped right now, but if there’s a slight chance that Kara can hear your cry for help, then you don’t really care about taking the high road.
So you cry and you scream. You do everything you can to get help before you’re taken to Rao knows where, but help doesn’t come.
You try to use your x-ray vision to know where they are taking you, but, and you can’t believe you’re thinking this, these kidnappers are kind of smart, because they covered the van in lead, so you can’t see out, and Supergirl can’t see in.
“So you work for Lex Luthor. Why is he sending people to kidnap me?” You scoff, with not so much strength left in you.
“I don’t work for Lex!” He yells looking extremely offended by your insinuation. “He simply gave me some ideas, but I’M the brain of this operation.”
“Ok. Then what do you want from me?” You ask again, not satisfied with the last answer. “If you want to fight, stop the car and I’ll fight you!”
“No offense, but I can’t fight you. You’re like twelve.” Offense very much taken, excuse him. “I can’t fight a kid. And I don’t want to anyways, I want Supergirl.”
“Why?” You should’ve known. You always knew someday you would get into serious trouble because some evil jackasses are trying to get to your momma, but right now? While you’re in the middle of a fight with her?
“You’re too young to understand!”
“I’m not too young!” He scoffs like he is sure you’re twelve and you huff. “I’m sixteen!”
“Boss, you said we were kidnapping a kid.” Says one of the other men, looking at you in shock.
“It’s not my fault she looks so young.”
“So you’re ok with kidnapping a kid, but not a teenager?” You ask one of the guys and he looks back at you.
“Shut up, I think you broke my nose, you stupid shit!”
You open your eyes, and look around. You don’t remember closing your eyes in the first place, so it is very surprising when you open them and find yourself in a low light lit room. The only thing you see clear is a chair, and the ‘brain of the operation’ in it.
“Hello child.”
You want to punch his face so badly, but you can’t. They have you wrapped in chains with kryptonite in the middle. It burns so much you can’t even get up from where you’re lying on the floor.
“How long do you think it will take for Supergirl to find you?” He mocks and you try to use your x-ray vision to find out where you are, but it’s all made of lead. “I do think we made it too hard for her. She can’t track you. She can’t see through lead… I wonder if she will find you before the kryptonite kills you because of over-exposure.”
“Let me go.” You grunt, your voice almost gone and you hear laughter in response.
“Your mother put me in jail for years. I had a child too, you see. Now he is a man, and wants nothing to do with me.”
“Is there where you met Lex?”
“Why are you so interested in Lex Luthor? Oh, yeah. He is your mom’s arch enemy” He tilts his head to look at you. “I told him all about my hate for the Supers, so he gave me some ideas. And I guess he was right. I mean, just look at you. You look like you’re dying and I didn’t even have to hurt you.”
“You shouldn’t follow Lex’s footsteps. He is sentenced for a lifetime.”
“I thought you were dying, but you are way too talkative for someone who’s dying. Should I black you out again?”
“Supergirl will find me and you’re going back to jail to keep Lex company for the rest of your lives.” You growl between your teeth.
“I might. Or you might die first and I’ll have the last laugh. I guess we'll see.” He walks to where you are. “I must say, it’s an incredibly powerful feeling to make a Kryptonian bleed.” He stomps on your head, and you see nothing after that.
When you wake up again, you can taste the blood on your mouth. You feel weak and nauseated, and your ears are ringing loudly. You don’t open your eyes, because you also hear muffled voices. It’s hard for you to make up the conversation with the constant noise in your ear. You focus on the conversation, and try to forget the pain you’re feeling.
“She’s totally green. Look at her. She looks like Shrek.” Laughter. “Maybe she died already?”
Nope, still pretty much alive and suffering, thank you.
“Maybe coming to Gotham was a little much. Supergirl will never find her.”
Gotham? Fuck. He is right, your momma might not find you before you die of over-exposure.
“I’m so bored. Let’s go grab something to eat. She’s either dead or dying, so who cares?”
Well, he is right. You are dying.
You open one eye, the one that was not directly stepped on, and you see you’re indeed alone. Ok, you’re dying, but you’re not dead yet. What can you do?
There’s not much in the dim lit room, or at least not a lot you can make out with your one watery eye, anyway. There is one thing, only one thing that can help you. An old radio system. The best kind.
You force yourself up. Your head is heavy and you barely can’t leave it up. You can’t stand up, so you crawl to it. The taste of blood is strong on your mouth, your stomach is twisting and growling inside, you know you’re minutes away from throwing up all over yourself and passing out again.
You open the radio, you’re not even sure how, do you still have super strength? Is it just poorly made? It doesn’t matter, the only thing that matters right now is that you are able to pass your location to someone.
- - . .. -
-- .. -- .- -.
You press the button a few times and close the shell again, crawling back to the place you were, and laying down while panting because of the pain and the effort. You close your eye, and pray to Rao your message is received by them. You pray they’re looking for you. And you pray you don’t die before telling them you’re sorry for all the things you said, and that you love them more than anything in the universe.
It doesn’t take long until you hear the men coming back to where you are. You stay completely still, and even hold your breath to make sure they don’t notice anything.
“See, I told you. Dumb girl didn’t even move. She dead, man.”
She ISN’T dead. But if she gets out of this, you might be, you stupid shit.
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dameronology · 4 years
Text
sorry seems to be the hardest word {poe x reader}
summary: with the war over, poe has a little too much time to think. more specifically, he has too much time to think about you.
warnings; swearing, angst (but eventual fluff!) 
 i have a lecture at 9am and here i am at 2am, producing this shit content for u all. enjoy xx 
- jazz
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You passed each other in the hallway sometimes.
Nobody would have known. Not a single person would have guessed that behind your professional nods and quick glances, that years of history lay untouched between the two of you. Early mornings, filled with rays of pink and yellow sunshine, fingers dancing across bare skin and as you laughed together, revelling in nothing but the highs of pure love. Then there had been the nights; they were undeniably colder, a shadow cast over the galaxy as the darkness forced people to face the horrors of war. You couldn’t see anything, not even a foot in front of you – but you could reach your hand out, and you knew that Poe Dameron would take it.  He was there. He was always there.
And then he wasn’t.
You knew it wasn’t his fault, nor was it yours. The Resistance needed both of you, but he’d been the one to call the shots on your relationship – and it had only been a matter of time, really. It was clear that things were going to come to head eventually and Poe had been the one to pull the trigger. You were important to him – perhaps the most paramount thing in his life – but none of it would have mattered if you lost the war. Secretly, he kind of hoped that he could just put a pin in it for later and win you back when the galaxy wasn’t batshit crazy.
Later was now. Poe was a general – your boss, actually – and you were a commander for one of the New Republic fleets. He saw you ten or twenty times a day in passing, chattering with your squad or delivering mission reports. Everything he loved about you was still there; your poise, your professionalism, your biting tongue and wit. And yet, all he got these days was a curt nod or a hope you’re doing well, general.  
To give credit where credit was due, Poe had tried to get your attention. He’d made many attempts to win you back without ever actually saying it: you were the first person he promoted after the war, and you always got the good missions. He never chased you up for paperwork and surely, you must have noticed that you were always assigned the most high-tech jets. It felt as though he were screaming into the void, throwing out everything he could and hoping that you would get the message.
But you never did. Or, if you did get it, you were ignoring it. Your icy demeanour never changed, nor did your attitude towards him. Poe witnessed you in action every day – in the air and on the ground, with blasters and with words – and with each passing one, he was certain that he was still in love with you. His distance from you was simply a reminder that he’d hurt you, as though to say congrats, you fucked up! Nice one, asshole.  
That brings us to now: specifically, early on a Tuesday morning, outside of your office. Poe, having reached breaking point, finally decided that he was just going to straight up tell you – or maybe he was asking you. Whatever it was, he knew that he had to get his feelings off his chest. If the war had taught him anything, it was that there was no time to roll over and let things pass. Even if you rejected him entirely, at least he could walk away knowing he’d tried.
Taking a deep breath, Poe raised his hand and knocked on your door twice. He knew that your schedule that day was clear – he’d made sure it was. You’d found it a little suspicious that your usual weekly meeting had suddenly been moved but you hadn’t questioned it. You were already running around doing a thousand different things.
‘One second!’ You called. There was a light shuffling sound, and after the fall of your boots against the ground, you swung the door open. ‘Poe – hi! General Dameron, sorry.’
‘I hate when you call me general.’ Poe groaned. (You found that to be quite ironic, because there had been many times when he’d demanded that you call him that – but that probably wasn’t relevant. Moving on.)
‘Right.’ You raised an eyebrow. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Can we talk?’
‘We’re talking now.’
‘That’s not what I….’ his eyes fell to the floor. For someone who was usually so confident, he’d certainly lost his swagger. ‘Can I just come in?’
You stepped aside, gesturing for Poe to come inside. Your office was quintessentially you; organised, but homely. You had a neat stack of papers on your desk and a few photos lining the walls. Most of them were of you with your friends; you and Rose at Canto Bight, you and Snap beside his X-Wing, you and Leia laughing together. His favourite one, however, was one of you and him with Rey and Finn; it had been taken on Hoth, and you were all bundled up beside Threepio, who was wearing a beanie you had terribly knitted. It had been one of the hardest weeks the Resistance had seen, but you were all stood there with your arms linked, smiling at the camera despite everything.
You were the only thing that had got Poe through the war. He knew it then and he certainly knew it now.
‘You’re in luck.’ You said, dropping into your desk chair. ‘My morning meeting got cancelled.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Poe sat opposite you. ‘I was the one who moved it.’
You thinned your eyes at him. ‘Why?’
‘Because…look, I’m just gonna give it to you straight.’ He rested his palms on the table in front of you. ‘I’ve been trying for months to get your attention. I’ve been giving you the best missions and the best jets and Finn has been on my ass about it but I was hoping it might get you to look at me.’
‘Poe, I-‘
‘- I know, it’s stupid.’ He continued. He rambled when he was nervous. ‘I thought that it might get you to talk to me again.’
‘I…’ you couldn’t quite find the words. ‘I’m not ignoring you. I’m just treating you like a colleague.’
‘And that’s the worst part!’ Poe shot back. ‘Because…we’re not just colleagues. Every time I look at you, I remember how you used to make me feel and it’s fucking killing me.’
You peered up at him, a small sigh escaping your lips. ‘The promotion.’
‘What?’
‘Was that because I deserved it or because you were trying to win me back?’
‘Shit.’ Poe murmured, heading dropping into his hands.
‘Poe.’ You leant forward, practically growling his name.
‘You know I wouldn’t do that.’ He pushed his hair back, brown eyes finally meeting yours. ‘You deserved that more than anyone.’
‘This is fucking crazy.’ You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. ‘You broke my heart six months ago and now you’re here, in my office at 7am, telling me that what I thought was just my good luck has been entirely your doing.’
‘I didn’t know what else to do.’ Poe admitted. ‘I just…I am so fucking in love with you. Hurting you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.’
You didn’t mean to falter. It was just that you’d been longing to hear him say for it so long and you hadn’t even realised it. In forcing yourself not to think about him, you hadn’t taken a moment to think about the possibility of getting back together. You didn’t want to let your mind wander in that direction, especially after all the hurt you’d felt the first time.
And now, he’d come in all guns blazing. Classic Poe, really.
‘So why did you do it?’ You quietly asked. ‘Why did you end it in the first place if you’re so in love with me?’
‘I was scared.’ Poe admitted. ‘I felt so helpless that ending it myself made me feel like I had some kind of control.’
‘Hey, Poe?’
He looked up, eyes suddenly full of hope. ‘Yeah?’
‘That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.’
And then he deflated.
‘I know.’
You shook your head, giving him a small smile. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too.’ He said. ‘So much. I know I see you every day but…I want to be with you. Those weird nods in the hallway and sideways glances just don’t quite do it for me.’
Your initial reaction had been to jump at the chance – to leap across the table and take your lips in his, making up for months of lost time there and then. On the other hand, you had to be realistic. He’d hurt you before and by taking him back, you were giving the power to do it all over again. That was a level of trust you weren’t sure you were ready for.
But it was Poe. It was your Poe – and you knew that no matter what had happened, his intention had never been to hurt you. Rather, it had been to protect you. It was a decision he’d made in catastrophically poor judgement, but the war had made everyone do stupid things. You hadn’t made it out the other side without your fair share of embarrassing stories.
If you did give him another chance – and if it went well? You could have everything. You’d have Poe by your side again (not that he’d ever really left). The future you used to talk about as a distraction from the war could become a reality. You could have your partner-in-crime back, your ride or die.
All it took was you overlooking the fact he’d hurt you.
Slowly reaching your hand out towards his, you intertwined your fingers with Poe’s. They still fit perfectly; warm and snug, as familiar as though you’d been holding one another just yesterday.
‘Dinner. Tomorrow night.’ You said.
Poe jolted up in his seat. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Dead serious.’ You shot back. ‘I’m…I’m a little hesitant, but I know you didn’t mean to hurt me the way you did.’
‘I could never hurt you intentionally.’ His grip on your hands tightened. ‘That doesn’t change the fact I did but I promise – I swear on everything I have – that this will be worth it.’
You gave him a watery smile. ‘I know.’
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Text
Fic: So Close Yet So Far Away
Fandom: Triple Frontier
Ship: Frankie Morales x Jay 'Lady' Ray
Warnings: Language, talk of sex, throwback to sex, Pope is a crude asshole. Yearnnniinnngggg.
Summary: Lady and Pope get into an argument and Frankie sorts her out. Cue some elite level yearning.
A/N: HAHAHA I wasn't even meant to write this today but I woke up with this on my mind and I just had to because they're my BABIES. This is an instalment in the Frankie x Lady series and takes place back when Lady was in Frankie's squad, before they were an item.
Jay should have known better than to ask about everyone’s weekend. She just wanted to make small talk while they got prepped for a field exercise. She wasn’t ready to hear about their night out on Saturday, how Santi, Frankie, and Benny all scored some willing chicks, Will only missing out because he had a girlfriend, not because he didn’t pull.
All the while Jay was stuck with her family, listening to her mother go on about how she was too good for the army, she should leave while she was still alive, get a normal job, marry, have kids… She could have been out with the guys, maybe get lucky herself and if not, at least have a fun night. Get drunk instead of sad.
And now she finds herself listening to Santi talk about his one night stand, not giving Benny a chance to talk about his, while Frankie, quite characteristically, clammed up about personal stuff.
“Nutted her so fucking hard and all she did was beg for more,” Santi brags, “best fuck I had in ages…”
Jay’s been in the military since she was 18. She knows how soldiers talk, she’s heard it all, she’s participated in the crude joking, she’s not put off by it. But on this Monday morning, while the squad is assembling their equipment, she doesn’t want to hear it.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Pope, do you fucking have to talk like that?” she barks, unable to hear one more word about his sexual conquests. The rest of them cease their activities in wait for Pope’s reply. Working so closely together, sometimes spending weeks cramped up on assignments builds close bonds but also breeds discord. It’s normal to be at each other’s throats from time to time but it’s rarely Jay who flies off the handle.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, My Lady,” Santi replies with a smirk, his voice at its most velvety. “I meant I made passionate love to her all night – “
“You are so fucking disgusting, you know that?” Jay hisses. “Just shut the fuck up about the whole thing, nobody wants to hear about it.”
“Clearly not you,” Pope drawls, quick to anger. In the corner of her eye, Jay notices Will shake his head at him. Don’t engage, bro, just drop it. But Santiago Garcia is someone who doesn’t let things slide when he’s in gear.
“When was the last time you got laid, Ray? You need to get those pipes cleared out. Get some d.”
When was the last time? Too long ago. She does have an itch but last time she scratched it, it just didn’t feel right. She had the same feeling of detachment as she experienced just now when she heard about last Saturday night, particularly the fact that Frankie got laid.
It’s not that she’s jealous. She’s just more comfortable with the idea that Frankie doesn’t sleep around with anyone.
“A dick isn’t going to solve my problems, Santi, unless it’s a big one up your sorry ass,” she snaps, a rude laugh from Benny telling her she scored a point. Staring hard at Pope, whose ridiculously handsome features show an obnoxious amount of amusement, she knows that he won’t budge until he’s drawn metaphorical blood.
“Just name the time and the place, Ray, I’ll be there. Will you?”
“Okay, knock it off.” It’s Frankie, of course. The voice of reason. “Redfly’s gonna be here any minute and I don’t want to do extra laps just because you two can’t play nice.”
Frankie always has that calming effect on her, even now when she’s inexplicably mad at him for having fooled around with some random girl he picked up at their usual dive. Is there a possibility of her being there again in the future? Jay doesn’t want to think about it. Right now, she focuses on the sense that Frankie’s words make. It’s not worth it. Santi’s not worth it.
“Just stay away from me, asshole,” she warns Santi before going back to her kit. The tension in the room eases and Benny, who’s closest to Jay, gives her a brief pat on the back and a nod that says Good call. She hears Frankie murmur something to Santi behind her back, then Santi’s mutter: “She on the rag or something?”
That does it. Jay throws down her backpack and spins around.
“You say that to my face, you piece of shit,” she growls, taking a step forward. Her body is quivering with pent up rage in need of an outlet and knocking Pope on his ass would serve as an adequate one.
“Jay, he’s not worth it,” Benny tries to placate her but she barely hears him. Her whole focus is directed at Pope and his shit-eating grin. He says one more thing…
“Got your panties in a twist?”
She lunges forward but doesn’t make it to Pope as several hands grab her and hold her back.
“Hey, hey, hey!”
“Calm the fuck down, Ray!”
“Crazy bitch – “
“You’re on really thin ice, too, Pope! Shut that motherfucking mouth of yours!”
Benny is physically restraining her as she practically vibrates with desire to beat the crap out of Santi, who’s held back by Frankie.
“Ray, he’s not worth it,” Benny tells her. “Take a walk. Smoke. Calm down. He’s an asshole.”
He’s right and Jay knows it. Mustering up all of her willpower, Jay rolls back onto her heels, straightens her back, and squares her shoulders. Without looking at anyone, she turns around and stomps out.
Frankie finds her by the vehicles, in the backseat of a Humvee. Her fore and middle fingers are rubbing against her thumb: she’s quit smoking but is clearly wishing she had a cigarette right now. Frankie climbs into the backseat from the other side and pulls up a pack from his pocket, offering it to her without words. Jay hesitates but eventually takes one and leans closer to him when he flicks open his lighter. Frankie can smell the anger on her, a sweaty tightness that radiates from her muscles. She sits back, inhaling deeply before exhaling in a frustrated puff of smoke.
“Fuck,” she mutters, “I don’t wanna die because of these.”
“I thought you quit?”
“I did.” She throws him a glance and a grimace before flicking the cigarette out through the open door. “I thought you quit as well?”
“I keep them around for emergencies like this,” he shrugs. Jay looks pointedly at him.
“Then you haven’t truly quit, have you?”
He loves it how she puts him on the spot like this, provokes him, forces him to reconsider, change his way of thinking. She always does it with such ease, sometimes with a teasing glint in her eye. She just makes him want to be a better person.
“I guess not.” He throws her a small smile that goes unreciprocated. She stares into the back of the seat in front of her, lips tight. Frankie would love to just sit here in silence and let her lead, let her open up in due time, but he knows that if they don’t join the others soon, Tom is going to make a scene.
“Pope’s an asshole,” he states. Jay scoffs but says nothing. “But what’s up with you? You usually don’t let shit like that get to you.”
Her nostrils flare and he sees the muscles of her throat flex. Eventually, she parts her lips to speak, her voice strained.
“I spent the weekend with my dear mother, my brother, and his family. And you know what mom’s like.”
Frankie nods. Yes, he’s heard about Jay’s mother and the dislike the woman has for her daughter’s career choice. The older brother is married with one kid and another on the way and he, of course, is a saint, a pinnacle of human achievement, his children the very essence of what makes a successful life, his wife the perfect picture of Woman.
Jay suddenly twitches, then kicks at the seat in front of her.
“Fuck!I hate this fucking shit!”
Frankie refrains from putting a hand on her shoulder, no matter how much he would like to. He might end up with a broken nose.
“I cut her off,” Jay says tonelessly. “Completely.”
“About fucking time, Jay.” He’s been waiting for this to happen and he wants to tell her that he’s proud of her but it’s not his prerogative, no matter how much he would like it to be.
“Yeah,” she agrees, still not looking at him. “I kept hoping that she’d get her shit together but…” Her voice trails off and she swallows hard. “Fuck. I miss my dad.”
“He’d be proud of you,” Frankie assures her, biting off the endearment that threatened to escape him. Mi amor. Querida. He wants to be able to call her that, wants to be the one she’d come to with her sadness. Wants to be the one to call her mother and tell her to go suck an egg.
“You should’ve called,” he tells her but she only shakes her head. Stubborn as a mule.
“You were out. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”
It had been ruined the moment Santi laid eyes on the company of three young women by the bar. He had zoned in on the curvy brunette and Benny had picked the fiery redhead, leaving Frankie with the blonde. He didn’t want her, didn’t want any of the others, but he had fallen for the peer pressure and for every drink, he figured it could be a good idea to get laid. The girl was pretty, funny, nice. She had a hot body and was clearly willing. They had gone to her place and he had treated her like he would treat every woman he slept with: he ate her out, giving her several orgasms with his tongue before even thinking about putting his dick in her.
She had insisted on riding him. Frankie didn’t mind but as she bounced on his cock, her round, heavy tits jiggling in front of him, he didn’t see her face anymore. No, it was Jay all along, Jay’s long, lean body on top of him, Jay sinking down on him, her slick, hot pussy swallowing his cock while he swallowed her moan. The fantasy had become so real that he had to wrangle the woman off of him and take her from behind instead.
He left in silence once she was asleep, crept out like an asshole, a coward. He usually asked a woman if she wanted him to stay, he had once upon a time enjoyed having breakfast the next morning, sharing kisses when he finally left. But now, it all felt like cheating.
“You wouldn’t have ruined the night,” he tells her quietly. “It wasn’t that good.”
“The night or the sex?”
“The latter.” His ears are burning and he refuses to look at her.
“Too much to drink?” There it is: that sweet, amiable little taunt she saves for him only – or at least he hopes she does. He’s never heard her speak like that to any of the other guys.
“Wrong girl.”
Jay turns her head and looks at him. The distance between them in the backseat seems to shrink and grow at the same time when he returns her gaze. The hairs at the nape of his neck rise when he loses himself in the fathomless ocean-blue of her eyes.
He has to kiss her. He mustn’t kiss her.
“Are you two done with your fucking therapy session?”
Both of them startle when Tom shows up by the open door on Frankie’s side.
“I have an exercise op to run and I don’t have time to wait for you to feel quite ready, Ray,” he adds before slapping his hand to the roof of the Humvee. “Get your asses in gear.”
He leaves without having noticed anything. Frankie wonders how it’s even possible. Didn’t Tom feel the air crackle with electricity? Didn’t he hear how hard his heart was beating?
Jay gets out of the vehicle and slams the door shut, and Frankie follows suit. As they walk back, keeping a distance of two feet between them, Jay murmurs a Thank you, Morales to him.
“Sure,” he replies easily, forcing himself to sound neutral. “I got you, Ray.”
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leviiattacks · 3 years
Text
Two Faced | Chapter Eight
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↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it’s all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared, for now at least.
pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au ??? (at this point idek) angst, fluff, slice of life etc ?? word count :: 4.8k author note :: i’ve been very ill so yeah, not the best writing but i really can’t go that long without wanting to write so i ended up writing an update, i hope you enjoy it, it’s longer than usual :D sorry for any mistakes it hasn’t been proof read at all :-( → next part coming soon!!
“Hey, newbie you haven't spoke about your home town much have ya?"
You lift your head, verifying Reiner's suspicions with a nod. You recall he's the same distasteful blonde brute who made those snide remarks about Hange. He must be at least a towering six foot if his shadow is able to cover the majority of the Sun's rays from hitting you.
You would maybe bother to give him and his inquiry more attention than you currently are if he hadn't been so unnecessarily impolite during the morning speeches.
Calves yelping in stinging pain from the first tastes of the full time training regime you simply cannot find the effort to strain your mind with small talk.
Temples throbbing it feels as if a sword has been forced through the side of your head,  but that's not it at all. Reiner has thrown a small rock at you and you hear him chuckle under his breath.
Twisting your position so you face him you glare in displeasure.
Although you don't particularly enjoy the idea of joining Levi's unit and having to become a concealed agent of sorts you can't really take your pickings at how it is you wish to survive. You're going to have to deal with it and you've come to the stage of acceptance now.
However, you are not willing to respect the attitude some of these cadets are giving you, it's clear there's already a strong hierarchy in place.
Reiner just so happens to be one of the big guns from what you've been able to observe. He possess strong upper body strength and his hand to hand combat isn't a laughing matter either. That means he's higher up in the ladder of cadets, that's for sure. To top it all off you know you're not as powerful as other members in the team in terms of skill and he's probably silently making a mockery of you for it.
Pursing your lips you decide to play this game cautiously, asking him what it is he needs from you isn't the best option. You're aware he's after something, it's written all over his face. You practically know every deceptive look in the book off by heart. You suppose it's the only perk you got out of living in a noble household for most of your life.
"Why do you care?" You bluntly question him.
"Ohh, you're feisty. Might not want to butt heads with Annie."
"Not sure who that is but I don't plan on it."
Turning away from him it look like you're distracting yourself by collecting pieces of firewood. Trailing around you act as uncaring as possible to annoy him. You need to gauge this man's reaction somehow.
Your plan seems to be working in your favour because you're able to see his footing shift from his natural stance, it looks as if he's about to risk charging at you due to your vulnerable position but you rotate again offering him a knowing smile.
You don't tell him you're conscious of his suspicious nature but if he's quick witted enough he'll be able to figure out you aren't a threat and apparently don't have a clue what it is he's up to. The only reason he'd even consider attacking you would be if he saw you as an issue. For now your act should at least keep him at bay.
"Fine. I'll tell you about my hometown, I'm just..." You pause to make yourself look believable and proceed to look up at him through your lashes, you dart your gaze away and awkwardly scratch the back of your neck exuding coyness.
"I'm incredibly homesick. I miss mother. I always made supper for her, now I can only pray she's not eating burnt chicken." Your act has to be working because his eyes soften and he takes half of the firewood in your arms offering to help you carry it.
"My mum's a great cook, can't relate squirt."
"Who you calling squirt?" You playfully snap back.
"I call everybody that, even Captain Levi... Well, when he isn't around to hear it."
You bite the inside of your cheek at the mention of the Levi's name.
“So you and the Captain? What’s that all about?” His question makes no sense at all, one minute he wants to prod and poke in your personal home life yet the next minute he's asking questions about Levi. The doubts you have surrounding him only thicken.
You take a moment to consider his question,
“Whatever do you mean?” Clueless, you're delivery is excellent. Acting naive is easy enough, everyone within the corps has already decided that's what your automatic disposition is.
Reiner gives you a skeptical look then smiles faintly, “Glaring daggers at Jean after he got handsy with you?”
You cover your mouth with your free hand and laugh so hard the firewood nearly flies out of your grasp.
“Me and Jean are friends, and Levi? He just wanted to find a reason to get mad at us probably.” You hope the explanation suffices because you truly have no idea why Levi had done what he did.
Reiner hums in approval at your answer but he then grins.
“You on first name basis with the Captain?”
Fuck, you called him Levi.
Play it cool.
“Huh? When have I ever said his first name?” Clueless. Your delivery is still perfect.
“Just now.” He fires back, Reiner doesn't seem to be letting up but he doesn't know how smooth of a liar you are.
Living with your father for all those years conditioned you in ways you hadn't even noticed until quite recently.
“Did I? Pardon, I didn’t mean for it to slip out. Sometimes I silently curse him out in my head and forget to add his title.”
Your acting is impeccable, Reiner has no reason to doubt you. As you expect he doesn't instead he shifts the conversation to his hometown, just like you he doesn't explicitly mention a name. Reiner is sharp but he hasn't noticed the way you've left a name out just like him. He's terrible at catching out his own kind.
You decide at that moment that Reiner Braun is a liar. The accusation is more of a hunch meaning more investigation is required.
You won't inform any of the higher ups about it just yet.
The walk back to base is filled with excruciatingly troublesome small talk and you make a mental note to take Mikasa along with you next time it's your turn retrieve the firewood.
You can't afford any more close encounters with Braun or any of his possible accomplices.
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Sniggers batter your ears as soon as you step foot onto the grounds, you have a sixth sense when it comes to spiteful bad-mouthing and after the abysmal day you've had you anticipate there will be unpleasant commentary.
"Seen the way Y/N ruined the assault course today?"
"We're the finalized cadets across all the regions of Paradis. That means we have to rely on that embarrassment to fight titans."
"Good Lord, someone have mercy on our souls."
Fellow cadets press on in their criticism thinking you aren't within earshot. That, or they purposefully aim for you to pay attention to the disapproval they have of your presence.
But, you do understand where they're coming from. You make another mental note - practice a bit more later today.
The gossiping isn't anything you're unfamiliar with, your father's palace never offered kindness to you or your existence. In fact it's rather comforting being talked badly about behind your back.
That statement sounds absurd but you can't explain it. Maybe it's due to Levi typically hurling his unnecessary remarks right at you without warning. Then again he does provide everyone with that treatment, even Commander Erwin.
As you hurry away increasing the distance between you and your loud mouthed team members you spot Levi from the corner of your eye. He's in conversation with Hange but you notice how his jaw is clenched in frustration, you feel a pinch over your skin when he spares you a fleeting look. Eyes acquainting yours. Paying  no attention to him you walk away as fast as you can.
The cadets only blow up in volume now, they definitely want you to hear what they have to say.
"Maybe we should ask the higher ups to throw her ou-"
"Questioning authority? Pesky mutineers aren't you?" Levi's booming voice shakes anyone within a five metre vicinity, he comes out of nowhere and seems nothing short of furious.
"You're all," He continues, voice rising, "Incredibly spineless aren't you?"
One of the cadets embellishes their face with a scowl, it doesn't go unnoticed by Levi but he astonishingly doesn't lash out, physically at least. His deathly glare is more than enough to finish the job.
Stupidly you suffer feeling your heart palpitate in your chest watching him talk to the group of three. Stupidly, you're getting your hopes up again.
He scoffs coldly, "If you're all talk why not offer to duel her?"
It doesn't take long for your heart to stop throbbing with its previous intensity. You know it was too good to be true. Levi suddenly defending you that is.
The gesture isn't done to protect or shield you. No, you're sure this man loathes you and is intending to persist on making your life as bleak and dreary as possible.
"Up to a battle Y/N?" The unnamed blonde cadet's scoffs in derision and you find yourself wanting to punch her square in the jaw.
Irritation sears through you but you meekly shake your head mumbling a weak "No thanks.", you're much too afraid to duel anyone just yet and you don't remember her from the training sessions. She must have been in a corner keeping to herself.
With all that being said and done you pathetically withdraw, and just like the past few days you sense Levi's piercing gaze erupting into your soul.
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The blistering Sun hits every nook and cranny of the training ground. Waking up early already has you wanting to pass out and the heat isn't any help.
The crowd of cadets mumble in fatigue but observant Mikasa jabs you in the shoulder pointing out how far away Jean has stood from you.
You feel guilty that Jean had to suffer through the humiliation tossed at him yesterday but you are grateful to not deal with his constant questioning and talkative self this early in the morning.
All the way at the other side of the throng of soldiers he stands with Bert, who might you add is a mammoth of a man.
Through some digging (more like asking Mikasa) you've discovered he's close with Reiner and the blonde cadet from yesterday's confrontation, turns out she's the Annie that Reiner warned you off.
"ATTENTION!" Hange sing songs at the front of the training ground. They're jumping around along with Squad Leader Mike checking if everyone's in the correct uniform - Apparently the year prior a cadet showed up wearing a thick cardigan and fainted from heat stroke...
“Today’s exercise is a time to redeem yourself!” Hange’s eyes dart towards you and you smile at one another.
“A FIGHT TO THE DEATH!”
Everyone murmurs looking at each other in pure confusion.
“A fight up against another person. Whoever wins their individual fights will receive extra special privileges." The explanation seems simple enough and you’re confident that if you’re put up against the right people you can make it out safe.
The promise of a reward is also enticing.
The 104th Training Corps are thrilled, there’s nothing too hazardous about the task and it’s nothing difficult to ask for. Even you’re looking forward to it. The chance to rescue your reputation has you pumped up with adrenaline.
“My, my my. Don’t excite yourselves just yet little hens, there’s a pretty little catch.” Hange's voice is laced in mischief. This can't be any good.
Everyone stops breathing in unison and it’s pin drop silent.
“You must cause harm to your opponent in some way. Whether it be making them faint, breaking an arm, breaking a leg. There are no rules when it comes to playing dirty!”
With a playful shrug of their shoulder Hange hops off the podium.
Squad Leader Mike pulls out the list of competitors. He’s decided the line-up on his own and begins the announcement with Bertholdt.
“BERTHOLDT HOOVER..."
Bert turns to look back at Reiner hesitantly and for such a giant it’s adorable how worried he is when everyone else is perturbed thinking about the poor individual who has to go up against him.
"AGAINST Y/N L/N!"
The crowd falls silent and your mouth is wide, this is unjust there’s no way this is allowed.
“Hey, don’t you think that’s kinda unfair?” Krista speaks out for you even though Ymir is by her side trying to talk her out of getting involved.
“She stands no chance against him.” Reiner is supporting your cause too.
Mikasa takes a step forward. “I agree, it’s not right, may I take her place instead?”
“No, no! It’s alright, I’ll go for it.”
Honestly you don’t want the corps to see you as a coward. Bravery and courage is what brought everyone here. Your story is different. You’re here to selfishly save your own life, you aren’t anywhere near as valiant as the rest of them. The very least you can do is partake in activities correctly.
Stepping up to the podium you stand by Bertholdt he gives you a pitiful look whilst he mutters an apology.
Mike continues announcing the names. A few include Jean against Mikasa (Jean may as well forfeit), Marco against Annie and Connie against Reiner - that pairing eases you. At least you aren't in this alone. You and Connie stand no chance against those beasts.
Everyone lines up in their separate areas and again Bertholdt is profusely apologizing asking if you want to fake faint or anything of the sort. You shake your head and promise to give it all you've got.
And then the games begin at the sound of the bell, and damn that Bertholdt because he isn't keeping to his end of the bargain. He lunges forward viciously aiming to crush your entire body but you swiftly dodge, he tries the same approach but when you duck out of the way again he stops knowing he needs to rethinks his strategy.
"Just give it up I'll win either way."
Well, the Mister nice guy act was definitely a believable performance. He was so convincing you even contemplated feigning unconsciousness when he proposed the idea to you.
Bertholdt is much slower than you giving you more time to deliberate your incoming moves. If you can get him to edge close enough to a nearby tree and deceive him into colliding with the oak trunk you should win - only on the condition that he passes out.
The scheme is far-fetched but it's your only hope.
Dashing from various corners he flies after you, each time unable to catch up to you.
That is until you stumble and lurch to the ground. The wind is knocked out of your lungs and you panic when a large hand clutches at your ankle. Your solution? Booting him right in the teeth.
However with an earth-shattering amount of force Hoover's hold on your ankle doesn't weaken. Instead he tightens his hold like a vice. You feel it bruise and the violet discoloration that'll be present in a few hours makes you wince.
Entire body going limp on command, you stop yourself from breathing - another talent you picked up back at the palace to avoid extra beatings.
When you no longer thrash around Bertholdt stalks in to check in on you and as expected he’s now towering over you, blood overflowing in terror.
"SQUAD LEADER HANGE, CAPTAIN LEVI SHE'S NOT MOVING!" He's roaring for their help frantic and anxious. If he's caused any permanent damage he's as good as dead meat.
"Oh my Lord. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."
Bertholdt's voice is fractured in unadulterated horror and judging by the direction you hear it at he has to be facing away from you.
Unbolting your eyes you learn your assumption is correct and despite hurried footsteps being within audible range you take your chance by the reigns.
Leaping to your feet and with no forewarning you swing your leg to the back of his neck. Stunned by the surprise attack he falls to his knees and you situate yourself in front of the oak tree you've been eyeing from the time the exercise began.
"You cunning bitch." Staggering back up he makes a swift rebound. At this point all mercy has left him and his one true aim is to completely pulverize you.
Everything is falling into place. All you need to do is wait for the right moment and finally you come across it when he suddenly pounces for you. Darting to the left you leave the space open for your prey.
Poor Bertholdt falls right into the palm of your hands like a rag doll. His momentum can't be controlled and he smashes headfirst into the trunk with a loud crunch sounding out. Bark splits and scrapes off the tree upon impact.
His head has to throb and you don't want to imagine how painful it is to feel the rivulets of soreness.
He doesn't get up and only groans, you feel half bad but after the tricks and antics he pulled you come to the conclusion that it's all deserved.
"Well, Y/N, you've proven yourself to be quite quick witted." Hange's praise is strange to hear but you beam proud that you've proven your worth.
"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself." Levi orders. "It could have been pure luck."
In spite of Levi's pessimism you bask in the glory of your win.
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A week into joining Levi's unit you're becoming more accustomed to the new environment, in fact the gossiping and horrible rumours stop completely after your win and interactions with your fellow comrades feel easier and lighter.
You think the taunts will have only got more relentless after the duel fiasco but you suppose Annie chose to be considerate and take pity on you.
"Your progress has been remarkable so far." You jump when you hear Jean's deep voice appear right next to you.
Looking around to see if any other cadets are around you finally release a breath you didn't even know you were holding in.
"Ah. Thank you." You murmur quietly.
"I know it's been a week since I was scolded by the Captain but this won't count as flirting will it?"
Impeding the one sided conversation you're reflecting, you're not sure what exactly about. Probably whether or not you should maintain the discussion - if it can even be referred to as such.
Forget it. You know what they say, you only live once.
Flicking his forehead you roll your eyes, "We were never flirting he's just an over dramatic, bitter hag. I put my money on the fact he's never felt the touch of a woman before."
Jean's eyes widen in disbelief, you half expect he'll split open in tremendous laughter but he looks terrified. Then you become conscious of the fact he's not even staring at you, his eyes are engrossed by whatever is behind you.
Unfortunately for you your body tells you all you need to know. His cologne floods into your nostrils, you can't even reassure yourself and pretend it's anyone else, you know he's the only one who smells that strongly of fresh linen.
Being unable to see him doesn't stop you from imagining his dark lifeless eyes accompanying themselves with what is before them.
It doesn't even take Jean a minute to abandon you, he breaks out into an awkward smile, hurriedly pats your shoulder before dashing away, dispersing all the way to the other end of the hallway in a matter of seconds and turning the corner away from you.
Heart rate soaring you hesitantly spin on your heel. Levi's stood there, looking beyond unimpressed.
You intend to breeze past him, cool and collected. You take a step forward but God has never been one to bless you with luck, stumbling and tripping over thin air lands you flying.
Ready for impact you brace yourself but it never comes, instead solid hands are firmly placed at the small of your back steadying your position and your palms have unceremoniously landed atop his torso.
"Play along." Levi's voice is low and rumbling, and you can't look him in the eyes. Not out of fear or dread, more so exhaustion but you muster the energy to look to your left. There Erwin and Hange stand giggling to themselves like children. As quick as you spot them they vanish in the same fashion. It's as if they were never there.
You're worn out and fatigued wanting nothing more than a good night's rest. If there's one thing you haven't grown used to it's the lack of sleep.
"Let go." Moving to shift his hands away from your waist you halt your movements when he without warning lets go of you, not even giving you the opportunity to renovate your balance.
Flying to the ground and landing with a thud you rub your backside at the blow.
Mirthlessly chuckling the lack of amusement is clear in the way he composes himself.
Making a dash for it sounds tempting but you may as well let him have his way. There's no action you can take to avoid him reprimanding you. It's your fault for having the gall to make that crude and foul-mouthed comment in the first place.
You gulp comprehending the situation is even worse now since you really only said it for the sole reason of Kirstein's amusement.
"Y/N, I'd like to have a word with you."
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Hesitantly you look up at Levi, he has an indecipherable expression on his face, it's been a while since you've last been left in his company alone.
The two of you are stood in his office, his desk is flooded with papers, they're haphazardly scattered all over the place and spikes of worry weirdly make them self present in your belly. This isn't right. He'd never leave his work space in this state.
"Are you okay?" You ask it because you’re sure he isn't.
His shoulders and spine stiffen. "Cut the crap and keep the formalities to yourself." He chides, most definitely defensive in his stance.
Without asking him you shuffle to his desk stacking the papers into organised piles, most of the documents are related to an up and coming expedition and it's all beginning to add up. Even humanities strongest soldier has moments where he cracks.
Then you notice your name on the formation plan but before you're able to make anything out of it Levi snatches it off his desk and away from you stuffing it into his pocket.
Without another sound he observes you cleaning the rest of the mess away but doesn't ask for you to stop. There's no reason for him to.
If you do this maybe he'll go easier on you, yeah that's what your motivation is. That's not exactly the truth, really you're just concerned about whatever has him worked up.
Placing the last document in its rightful place you want to give your mind a moment to recollect itself but Levi doesn't think the same.
He places his arms on either side of the desk, trapping you with no way out. Oddly, there's nothing threatening about him looking down at you this time, the greys and blues of his iris' captivate you.
"Do you enjoy making a mockery of your husband?" The question is whispered. It's unanticipated and the title of husband is uncharacteristic coming out of his mouth.
"It was just a joke." You mumble your answer under your breath.
"Would you have spouted that shit in front of the rest of the unit?"
Mildly shaking your head he then sighs. He’s not angry, he genuinely seems let down.
"Do you prefer him over me?” You swear you hear the faintest hint of self-doubt.
His questions are getting more out of the ordinary by the second and you’re waiting for him to crack a malevolent grin before he ridicules you like he always does.
“Of course I don’t prefer him over you.”
“Prove it.”
Tilting your head up towards him you have no idea what he wants for you to do or say, why does this suddenly even matter to him?
And then you imagine it happen, him digging his hands into your shoulders. Your weight along with his shifting up against the desk making it creak. Your mind details how he would kiss you agitatedly and you flush thinking about how you would feverishly return the favour.
It seems like your imagination predicts the future. He grips your jaw with his hand, his touch isn’t firm and for once it’s quite soft. Relishing in the new experience as he leans in you secure your eyes shut in expectation.
Stroking your cheek with his thumb the warm sensation that courses through your body is rather pleasant. His hands come out to run against your body, pinching the sides of your waist. The motion makes your heart stall for a second. Involuntarily, you find yourself leaning into him.
“This seem like a man who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman before?”
And just like that he leaves you hanging. You flutter your eyes open and there he is. He’s back, the same cynical man, smirk etched onto his features, his body still parallel to yours.
You find yourself enraged at how he's just lead and dragged you on, you should have stuck with your gut feeling and not given into temptation but you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat. It's very obvious who the cat is in this situation.
Brows furrowing you can’t face him ever again after the scalding embarrassment inhabits your abdomen.
"Going to cry, Cadet?" He's pushing all your buttons, eagerly choosing to provoke you.
The frustration you’ve been feeling fills you to the brim and you clamp down on your bottom lip. If you must turn to inflicting harm onto yourself just to muffle the sound of your whimpers you will.
“Did you need to do that?” You choke out your response feeling helpless, still not looking at him.
“Simply gave you a taste of your own medicine.”
Silence.
"Sometimes I wish you killed me back then."
Silver eyes become dark and he visibly flinches at your confession.
Still boxed in-between his arms you attempt to push past but he continues to obstruct the exit. He's not done yet.
"I gave you another chance at life." His blunt one-sided view is about to drive you crazy.
"Within my first day at this unit I had to avoid being attacked by another cadet in the forest if you call that a life I do-"
“Who?”
“Not important."
“If you know what's good for you, you'll spit it out."
For the sole purpose of irking him you heavily shake your head to emphasise your refusal to give in and name the culprit. It's not like you want Reiner to fall into trouble because of you. He hasn't shown any suspicious or out of the ordinary behaviour since then and you worry what Levi is capable of doing when given a reason to hurt someone.
Glancing at him dismissively you try to make your point again. "They haven't done anything since. Therefore, it's of no importance."
Conflicted emotions scurry over his face as he looks at you.
"It's of importance if my wif-" He growls and stops midway. His hands grip onto the desk even harder, knuckles turning white.
Was he about to say, wife?
Levi immediately realizes what he's nearly just said sounds exceedingly questionable. A look of uncertainty flashes over his face and then it seems he loses all regard for self-control. His willpower isn't enough to get him through this situation and he only amplifies.
Encroaching further into the very little space amongst the both of you his tone is icy. "Tell me." He's glowering and for Reiner's wellbeing you decide you should just come out with it now. He'll be in an even more difficult spot if you don't.
"Reiner, it was Reiner." You gasp out the answer, shallow breath ragged. Head turning away to the side you're not particularly sure why you're so shaky and why you feel a tremor flood past you inundating your movement. It may all be a combination of how close he's standing to you and how intoxicatingly strong his aura is.
Or, perhaps it's due to how he nearly referred to you as his wife during his primal outburst of anger.
He turns away. Automatically creating yet another blockade between the two of you.
"You're dismissed."
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Note
NSFW (whole alphabet) for Maul?
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A/N: PLEASE REMEMBER TO COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS! HEADCANONS NEED LOVE TOO YOU KNOW! (Also the tags are not working because they hate me)
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
He’s gentle, shockingly so. No matter how rough or intense, his entire demeanor shifts.  He treats you like glass; caressing your skin, cleaning your mess, and reveling in the lingering warmth. He becomes one clingy bitch is what I’m getting at here. 
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He loves your throat.  He loves how you leave it so open to him, to kiss or bite or squeeze as he wishes.  It’s a sign of trust, not to mention it leads down to your chests and all the other soft parts attached. (He’s a boob man, that’s all I’m saying)
As for himself, he likes his hands. They still hold his true strength. They can still wield the force to his will; to destroy his enemies or to place a gentle touch to your cheek.  He’s amazed that you can allow him to touch you after how much his hands have done. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He makes a mess whenever you fuck.  He likes to cum on you; on your tits, stomach, back, face, anywhere.  But he really loves cumming inside you and watching it drip from your sex.  Even if he can’t give you children, the idea of burying his seed in you is an instinct he can’t shake.  Would love nothing more than to keep his cock inside you and fill you again and again with him cum until it spills out on the bed.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
There are times he purposefully makes you angry because he knows how you’ll punish him later.  He’s not sure if you’ve caught on or not, but either way you play into his scheme perfectly.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Not very before you.  He was taken by Sidious at a very young age; as a Sith he was trained to forgo attachments and obey his master at every turn.  Sidious would not allow his apprentice any chance to form a connection with another aside from taking him back to Dathomir to fulfill a coming of age ritual where he was taken by a Night Sister.  After that, nothing. 
But, for what he lacks in experience, he makes up for in his willingness to learn.  He asks what you want, what you like.  He feels your reactions through the force and demonstrates a control you hadn’t found in previous lovers.  He can be patient when it counts.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He loves it when you’re both kneeling, with you straddling his waist a he thrusts up into you.  He’s able to reach deep inside you while allowing either of you to gain control as you wish it.  Not to mention easy access to your throat and breasts as he clings to you. 
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Maul is 99.9% of the time completely serious during sex.  Either his focus is entire on your pleasure or you’ve given him permission to work out his frustrations using your body.  The only time he’d crack a joke is if he’s feels particularly smug about the way he’s making you feels and wants to tease you.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
No hair down below, because, well...he doesn’t really have a natural below.  I doubt Mother Talzin added hair just for the fun of it.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
As I said before Maul has two modes; I need to fuck away my feelings OR you are the most important thing in the galaxy let me show you why.  When he’s in mode two, he’s the most intimate and romantic partner you can ask for, almost desperate in his attempt to show you how you make him feel.  If it’s option one, you’ll have to wait until after the sex to get the same treatment.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Pre-Naboo, he kept it on the down low.  He could only allow himself a moment’s release when his master wasn’t around.  And even then, it was only when he was particularly stressed or angry.  It was done quickly with no real thought of pleasure, just some kind of release if he couldn’t do it through violence.
After Naboo, it’s not really something he does because well...there’s not much down there for a good long while and after he gets some of his...parts back, he meets you.  With you, he doesn’t feel as compelled to use his hands.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding kink.  He can’t give you children, obviously, but there’s an almost instinct there.  Just another thing Kenobi took away form him.
Also, not sure if it’s a kink, but he’s an absolute switch.  One minute he’s squeezing your neck while using you as his personal cum bucket.  The next, he’s tied to the bed begging and promising you the galaxy if you just let him cum.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
He’s a bit of an exhibitionist. As much as he wants to be the only one to see you naked and writhing underneath him, there’s something about fucking you on the throne of Mandalor that sends a thrill up his spine.  Anyone can walk in and know that he’s the one making you feel this way.  He has the power to fuck you in front of the whole of Death Watch if he wanted to and none of them could touch you.  They would know you were his and as their leader they would not dare oppose him.
So, in terms of most common place, your bedroom.  In terms of most thrilling place, the throne room, followed by the war room, and then the training room.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You getting angry is the hottest thing in the galaxy to him.  If you direct that anger into destroying your enemies in combat, even better.  He’ll take you the second you’re alone in the ship.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Roleplaying.  It’s you and him, that’s it.  He doesn’t want or need to “spice things up”.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He prefers giving.  He loves your taste and how easily he can get you to cum with just his tongue.  He can feel your pleasure through the force which only drives his further.  Granted he needs to be mindful of where his horns are when you clamp him head between your thighs but that’s neither here nor there.
He’ll certainly accept you going down on him, but he knows it’s not as pleasurable for you to have a metal cock in your mouth no matter how good it feels for him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He can be slow an sensual, but it almost always devolves into rough desperation.  He’s a man of wild passions and it shows in the marks on your thighs the next morning.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
You’re almost always the one to initiate them.  He says he can wait until the evening, but he’s often left working well into the night and forgets.  You take it upon yourself to strive into his office and tell him you need a good fuck.  That will get him away from the paper work long enough to leave your legs shaking and his mind a little more clear.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He’s willing to try something you propose so long as you discuss it properly before hand.  He wants to make sure you’re safe before trying anything.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
It’s absolutely insane how high his stamina is.  For one, he’s got a mechanical cock that doesn’t actually get soft even after he cums.  Second, his reliance on the force allows him to recoup faster than normal.  He can go for an many rounds as you can stand for as long as you want.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
That will be a negative.  He doesn’t have any toys and the idea of you having a toy when all you have to do is ask he finds more than a little insulting.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He always does it when he’s trying to win an argument or make a point, and it’s infuriating.  He likes hearing you beg or admit he was right all while he teases you clit with the promise of more.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Maul gets loud.  It’s almost a defiance.  His master would not allow him anything like this singular happiness with another being and now he’s taking it at his own pleasure.  He screams and growls and moans and begs and every other noise in the book.  He wants people to hear.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Maul wants to have kids with you, and that fact that he can’t really aches at him.  He wants something that is truly his own; a legacy outside of the Sith, a final defiance to the master who abandoned him.  They would be the best of both of you and unparalleled in their power.  Nothing would stand in their way.  He can see it in his minds eye every time you fall asleep in his arms.  But, it can never be.  If Mother Talzin had figured out a way to make life without the need of Zabrak men, he wouldn’t have been a Night Brother in the first place.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Like I’ve said, Maul’s entire lower half is mechanical, including his cock.  Mother Talzin made him one which retracts back in when he’s not aroused.  It’s shaped like a Zabrak male: three ridges, each wider than the last giving him good length and girth (look up Nova: Bad Dragon). It also gives him pleasure, which is better than a dilo and excretes a synthetic cum when he climaxes.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
It’s not so much a sex drive as a yearning for you.  There are times he just wants you, to hold you close, to bury himself inside you and forget anything exists outside of you.  It’s in flux, but it’s certainly higher than most men you’ve known.  You’re having sex at least every other night if not more.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He doesn’t dare fall asleep until you do.  He likes the feeling of your body relaxing beside his as you drift off. He likes knowing you trust him to keep you safe, even in sleep.  Only when he knows there’s nothing lurking in the dark to take you away does he finally fall asleep.
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izzabeean · 3 years
Text
Chapter 8 : Restless
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SUMMARY
Now that you’ve temporarily moved into Oikawa’s apartment, you feel like you need to do something in return for his and Iwaizumi’s generosity. Yet, just when things start to look up, there’s always something that brings you back down.
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pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader
genre : angst + fluff
word count : 5,474
content : profanity, smoking
tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn
a/n : a bit of a longer chapter, I'm sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed. I tried to have two perspectives in this chapter and I’m not entirely sure if I like it, but here ya go! Also I hope you like it! (Pardon my errors, I only proofread once)
Post Thursday evenings PST, if not latest by Friday.
masterlist
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“I’m thinking… Curry!” you exclaim while you begin to collect the required ingredients at the smaller grocer.
Dinner wasn’t going to be anything too elaborate or fancy, just something simple. It’s the least you could do for Oikawa and Iwaizumi, letting you stay at the apartment until the disaster at your place ends. Though you weren’t much of a chef, you were really good at making a delicious pot of chicken curry. Truthfully, you’ve never cooked for anyone but yourself before, even Ushijima didn’t have the chance to taste your cooking, so you were quite nervous about the outcome. 
Nonetheless, this was your opportunity to do something for all that they’ve done.
“I can’t even remember the last time I had homemade curry,” Iwaizumi says while the corners of his mouth slightly curl up. You think he could probably light a room up with that smile, even if it’s so stupid for you to admit it, but you were really happy Iwaizumi offered to accompany you.
“Well you’re in for a treat!” you giggle. But you're finding yourself distracted watching every move Iwaizumi makes in search of some sort of confirmation that perhaps he is attracted to you too. You know it’s your own fault for clinging onto the tiny chance of hope that it’s more than him being a courteous gentleman. 
You’re practically floored when you accidentally brush each other's hands reaching for the same item at the same time. You blush from embarrassment up as you shoot him a sheepish smile and quickly pull your hand away.
Oh god, what is going on with you? Can’t you just be normal for once? You think, attempting to talk yourself down from the severe sweat your body has broken out in.
There were only a couple more things on your list you needed and advised the rest would be found down the aisles. Rounding the corner you begin to walk down the row of groceries on the hunt for the curry roux to complete your dish. At first, you’re too busy ignoring your hyper-awareness to Iwaizumi's presence to notice, but once you do, your heart sinks to your stomach as a familiar figure stands the opposite end of the aisle.
Quickly, you back out of the aisle pushing Iwaizumi with you. He doesn’t necessarily respond, but the unexpected reaction on your part definitely surprises him as he glances down at you with wide eyes.
“My ex is here,” you breathe. 
You can feel yourself shutting down again. You at least hoped that living in a different neighborhood, you’d avoid running into Ushijima, but it seems like no matter where you go you always seem to find him. It’s almost like the universe forbids you to get over him.
Iwaizumi tries to push past you, but you shove him back.
“No, no! He’ll see you,” you warn, hands pressed against his chest. Your mind takes a step back realizing what actions you’ve committed while the tips of your fingers and palms of your hands feel his toned chest beneath them. You feel your face warm up and it doesn’t help that you feel like you're burning under Iwaizumi’s dark, intense gaze. 
“Let me look,” he argues. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”
Putting your hands down, you watch him go. Your shoulders lock up as you ball your hands into fists. 
Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Your brain screams.
You turn on your heels preparing yourself to bolt if Iwaizumi has been spotted. Instead, he turns back and looks at you in shock. 
“I didn’t know that was your type,” he teases.
You furrow your brows at his response. “And what did you think my type would be?”
“I don’t know…” he clears his throat. “Oikawa?”
“What?” you shout. A look of annoyance flashed across your face, you try to sound polite, but the words come off as irritated with a hint of attitude. 
He laughs in response. “Let’s go,” he says while walking past the aisle. 
You catch your breath and hesitate, not wanting to be seen by Ushijima, but at the same time, you want to see if that girl is with him. Slowly you poke your head out to get a better look. He appears to be alone on the phone with someone, you can't hear the conversation but you notice by the way he's standing it isn't a good one. You know his mannerisms better than you'd like to admit and one thing he would do when he was having a difficult conversation is pinch the bridge of his nose. It wouldn't happen often, but when it did he would always tell you nothing was wrong when it clearly was. 
It's strange looking in from the outside, unable to comfort or distract Ushijima from his worries. 
“Pst,” you look over to Iwaizumi, snickering to himself. “Done spying yet?”
His comment startles you as you swallow hard convincing yourself to walk past the aisle to join Iwaizumi. This sad feeling hangs in your chest, a bit sharper than when you were blindsided with a break-up and a bit deeper than when you saw him with the girl. It almost like everything you’ve known was just pulled from under you, as if the last couple of years never existed, it was all a dream and now you're strangers. 
You take a deep breath as you follow Iwaizumi to continue gathering the rest of the ingredients. In your mind, you’d imagined that anger would have encapsulated you in this orb of revenge but instead, you have this longing for wanting to know if any of what you had with him was real.
As you leave, you check behind you wondering if you’ll see him again. Hoping perhaps he will see you too. But you don’t. 
“Something wrong?” Iwaizumi asks.
Your face pales as you think up a broad way to express how life just keeps getting worse and worse. 
“No, life is just weird now.”
“Cause you’re new roommates are two immature boys?” Iwaizumi jokes.
“That’s the least of my worries,” you answer, letting out a dry chuckle. 
Because I get to see you.
The grocery bags bounce against your leg as you look up at the clear sky feeling the sun’s rays kiss your face with warmth. Was it possible for you to like someone this fast? It’s easy enough to get over a break-up when someone else is in the picture, but what if that someone was a person you crossed paths with when you were younger? Was it meant to be? Or are you just imagining things?
The tension feels overwhelming as a fire lights in your stomach. 
“You know, I never thought I’d ever see you again.”
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says peering at you. “It really surprised me too… In a good way. But it seems you can’t keep yourself out of trouble.”
You feel a big surprise overcome as you shift your gaze to him. He’s referring to the sparkly gel pen the bully took from you. You’re certain. 
“What can I say? Trouble always finds me, I don’t go looking for it.”
You both laugh, filling your body with relief as the tension in your shoulders relaxes. This feeling of warmth blossoms throughout your body as the sound of his laugh echoes in your ears giving you the perfect amount of serotonin you need to alleviate your earlier worries.
How the hell did you get lucky enough to hear it? 
Your eyes glimmer and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. The giddy sensation gives you the confidence to slip out the next sentence you didn’t fully process--
“It’s kind of funny because I used to have a crush on you.”
You start to sweat realizing the words that just came out of your mouth and you’re silent. This isn’t exactly how eight-year-old you wanted to confess, honestly, you were going to take your crush on Iwaizumi to your grave. And now here you are. Oversharing. Something you don’t pride yourself on doing. In fact, now, you’re just worried about what he will say.
“I know,”  he replies, avoiding eye contact rubbing the back of his neck.
“What?” you start, stumbling over your feet.
You feel like you didn’t hear that right. Yes, you would see him every day because you were in the same class. But you barely spoke to each other, keeping to yourself most of the time. You were discreet, to say the least.
“How?” is the only thing you can think up to say.
“I mean, you weren’t really good at hiding it, with you staring at me all the time,” he says. “But also Hina told me.”
Hina, an old ‘friend’ of yours from elementary school. You recall her pestering you about who was your crush and stupidly told her who. And what does she do in return? That’s a low blow for an eight-year-old.
Brushing it off with a dry laugh, you add, “Well that’s embarrassing.”
“I wouldn’t say so,” he shrugs, looking at you in his peripheral vision. “We were just kids.”
You open your mouth to speak but the words die in your throat.
“It’s not like you still have those feelings,” he continues.
Oh.
“God no,” you exclaim, sounding a bit insincere. But you’re trying to act unaffected by the strength of his words that made you feel like you just got hit by a car.
“Do you?”
“W-what?” you stutter flustered. “I-I don’t know what you’re asking--”
“I was joking. It was a joke,” Iwaizumi interjects realizing maybe he’s pushed it a little too far then playfully nudges you with his shoulder.
Your whole body tingles from the short contact. In a way, it feels like he just unknowingly friend-zoned you in a matter of seconds. But it was truly your fault for thinking that some sort of fate brought you both together. You feel like you’ve been pulled out of the strange lull of not knowing how the other person is feeling. Now you just feel like an idiot.
“Right! Just a joke!” Changing your entire expression to a more vibrant smile.
Part of you wishes you didn’t get your answer though. 
------
Dinner doesn’t take as long as you suspected, especially with Iwaizumi’s help, speeding up the process without you stressing over getting it done at a reasonable hour. It isn’t overly delicious as you taste the final concoction, but you still find it good enough to serve your friends.
“Thanks for the help,” you smile.
“No problem,” he says.
“What time is Oikawa coming home?” you question while turning down the heat and covering the curry with a lid to keep warm.
“He texted me back saying--”
“I’m home,” a voice calls from the entrance. Oikawa walks into the kitchen nose carried by the rich smell of spices. The corner of his lips curls up into a coy smile as he eyes you up and down while you stand in front of the stove with an apron on. “Didn’t know I could consider you wife material.”
“Remind me to not do something nice for you again,” you retort, irked by the shit-eating grin.
He blinks when he peeks over your shoulder realizing the delicious smell is coming from a pot on the stove. “You made dinner?”
“Yes, as thanks for letting me stay here, but I can just throw it out if you’re going to be an asshole,” you argue while staring at him intensely. It strikes you that you’ve forgotten how ungrateful he can be and perhaps making dinner was just a bad idea to show gratitude. 
“No, no, I was just kidding,” he begs. “Looks good.”
“Go sit,” you scold. 
He’s taken aback by the sternness in your voice and slowly back off to the dining table in the other room. 
Iwaizumi passes a plate of rice to you, noticing the aura of rage exuding by the way you slop the chicken curry onto the plate.
“You ok?” he asks so matter-of-factly that you could punch him as well.
“I’m fine,” you reply quickly while you finish plating that last portion. 
Walking into the other room, you set a plate down in front of Oikawa who marvels at the mouth-watering meal. 
“Thanks for the meal,” Oikawa says, delving into the curry. His eyes light up at the taste as he happily chews the tender chicken. “It’s good!”
“Thanks,” you mumble. But your anger hasn’t dissipated as he can immediately sense it whilst you refuse to look his way. “Iwaizumi helped too.”
“I can’t take credit for all your hard work,” he adds.
You look up at Iwaizumi giving him a soft smile then turn back to the food that you’ve barely touched as you continue to play with it on your plate. You’ve lost your appetite.
“I think I’m going to go to bed,” you utter getting up from your seat.
“What? Aren’t you hungry?” Oikawa asks. 
“I’m just tired,” you reply, bringing your plate into the kitchen. 
No one else says anything else as they watch you go, they just pause unable to process your sudden exit. The next thing they hear is the door shut to Oikawa’s room. They exchange glances before continuing to indulge in their meal. 
Collapsing on the bed you exhale deeply. It’s too bad you couldn’t sit down and enjoy the meal but everything seemed to hit you at once. You could only take so much, from seeing Ushijima yet again to the disappointing rejection from Iwaizumi to Oikawa’s snarky comments. You don’t know why his comment jabbed you so deeply, normally, stuff like that doesn’t bother you, but you suspect all the stress and surprises you’ve endured in the past three days, you were definitely on edge.
You knew you were lashing out, but you couldn’t ignore the pain you felt inside. Maybe sleeping it off could help. Just maybe.
------
The night felt endless. Shifting in the sheets you bury your face in the pillow; it’s not the same familiar scent as it is back at your apartment, instead, it’s a mix of fabric softener with a ting of cologne that most certainly smells like Oikawa. 
Didn’t know I could consider you wife material. 
The same words repeat in your head causing you to toss and turn, unable to fall asleep with all the anxiety pent up inside. His words make sense though. If Oikawa couldn’t even see you that way, how could Iwaizumi? 
You know you’re not going to get any more sleep with your thoughts racing, so you climb out of bed and throw on a jacket.
Slowly turning the knob, you pry the door open and creep into the hall. The apartment is dark and quiet except for the subdued sound of Oikawa's snoring trailing from the living room. You study him in his deep slumber while a trickle of the light slips in through a crack of the closed curtains. You still can’t believe he gave up his bed to let you sleep in it. Lately, he’s been awfully nicer than usual to you. 
As you reach the foyer, you crouch over to slip on your shoes to lace them up. Suddenly the air in the room shifts as a hand emerges from the darkness to cover your mouth. Your fight or flight instincts kick in as you try to tear the culprit's arm away from you. But when you do, your eyes are met with Iwaizumi holding his index finger to his lips. You send him a wide-eyed glare in disapproval of his actions, you thought you were going to have a heart attack.
“Go,” he whispers, gesturing to leave.
Putting on your other shoe and quickly tying it, you get up to unlock the door.
Click!
The sound wasn’t that loud, but in the silence of the apartment, it feels like the noise shot and reverberated off the walls. You close your eyes and strain your hearing to listen for Oikawa's snoring. And it stops. But for a moment, before continuing.
You sigh as you shoot Iwaizumi with a look of relief and walk out of the apartment.
A shiver goes down your spine as you breathe in the fresh dewy morning air while the birds chirping in the background with the sun just about to rise. You lean on the railing taking in the peaceful surroundings having a newfound appreciation of how beautiful everything is.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Iwaizumi asks, shutting the door behind him.
“Not really,” you groan. “You?”
“I have a weird sleep schedule,” he continues, his voice a little groggy probably from just waking up. He takes out a pack of cigarettes and offers you the pack as a way of asking if you’d like one. “I like getting up early when I can.”
“Yeah I’m a bit more of a morning person myself,” you reply, accepting a smoke. As of lately you’re a morning and night person but didn’t think it was not worth mentioning.
He lights the cigarette and passes you the lighter. You watch him press his lips to the smoke, you wonder if they’re as soft as they appear providing that he seems so gentle when inhaling the toxins. Then he exhales the smoke, you watch it curl into the air and the sweet smell hits your nose urging you to light your own. In your fantasies, you imagine sharing a smoke as a form of intimacy, passing it off to each other, but obviously, this is real life and not some romance novel so you push the thought away.
“So, what do your parents do?”
The question feels like a forced form of conversation that you ask someone when you don’t know what to talk about. You know after yesterday’s adventure to your parent's home, there must have been a lot going through his mind as to how they have such a big house with so many rooms, but the inquiry is always deeply triggering. It’s not that you don’t want to answer, you just don’t like to talk about your parents much. You wouldn’t think that you have the healthiest relationship with them and you definitely didn’t believe now is the best time to give a full autobiography.
“... They work in medicine,” you try to sound enthusiastic but the words leave your mouth sounding bitter and resentful.
“Ah, both doctors?”
“Mm… Kind of,” you mutter, taking a hit from the cigarette realizing you’re going to need another one soon with the way this conversation is going.
“You don’t like talking about it?” he exclaims, noticing that you are extremely reticent to the topic.
“Not really…” 
You didn’t feel like outlining how they forced you to go to university when you weren’t completely sure what to study. And you didn’t want to tell him that they were absolutely livid when you refused to go to school. And the only compromise you could make with them is that you would go to university if you were allowed to move out to live by yourself. 
“They’re great in a sense they take care of me, but not great in a way that I am able to choose what I want to do…” you mumble, already dreading the fact you’re starting to overshare. Sure he asked, but you can’t help but feel guilty for even talking about the subject. 
“Well, what do you want to do?”
You pause. Despite his firm demeanor, it wasn’t something you expected to hear from Iwaizumi. At all. What did you want to do?
Go somewhere far away, where no one can find me, leave everything behind, become the person I want to be without any judgment… Is what you wanted to say, but instead, you murmur, “I don’t know… I’m hoping someday I figure it out.”
“No harm in that,” he responds.
“You’re lucky you know what you want to do,” you utter, peering at him. “I wish I did.”
Iwaizumi exhales and looks up at the sky that’s changing to a golden color with the sun about to rise.
“It's okay to not know what you want right now,” he begins. “It’s hard to commit to something that you’re going to do for the rest of your life.”
“How did you know?”
“One day I just knew,” he shrugs.
“I don’t think I can,” you object, fully knowing you’re being difficult. 
Instinctively, you don’t think something like that can appear before you so easily. Here you are, almost four years later, completing a degree you don’t necessarily care about, but feel like you have to do in order to get your parents off your back. You understand it’s your life and you have the full ability to make your own decisions but all you can feel is fear and anxiety wash over you at the thought of thinking where you could be in five years. 
“What about your ex?” 
You blink unsure if you heard Iwaizumi right.
“What?” you answer almost coldly.
“Do you want to get back together with him?”
“No,” you snap hostilely, raising your voice. 
“There, you made one decision,” he points out.
“Not when he’s found someone else,” you whisper.
You swallow hard as he glances up at you, his gaze finally meeting yours for the first time this morning. The statement takes you both by surprise as your words linger in the air between the two of you. Iwaizumi’s eyes are wide like he’s heard this fact for the first time.
“Didn’t Oikawa tell you?” 
Iwaizumi shakes his head. "What happened?"
You feel yourself emotionally facepalm yourself as you draw the conclusion that Oikawa didn't actually tell Iwaizumi everything. Now you'd wish you had clarification of what he was told.
“I saw him the other day, when I was out with Oikawa, with someone new,” you confess, taking a deep inhale you feel your eyes start to turn glassy and your heart dip. It’s a mix of feeling like the world is about to implode and embarrassment as you come to realize the amount of word vomit that leaves your mouth in Iwaizumi’s presence. 
“She knows what she wants, that’s probably why he left me. Probably smarter too and definitely much prettier,” you add, not knowing why you’re continuing to go on about it.
Yes, you’re tired and upset that all this dumb bullshit keeps happening to you, all you wanted to do was talk about it. Even if Oikawa offered, there’s this unexplainable uneasiness of being vulnerable around him. 
The next few minutes are painful as you stand in irrefutable silence that seems to speak louder than any words of comfort. You wonder if you’ve overstepped your boundaries by telling him more than he probably cares to know.
“I hear that you’re smart,” Iwaizumi finally says. “Oikawa says you’re always studying hard and getting high marks in your classes…” 
Frankly, he didn’t have to try to console you. He has no reason to. And he can’t lie, he feels a bit guilty for bringing it up.
“And I doubt she’s prettier,” he utters.
Your chest tightens as you look at Iwaizumi with bright eyes. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before breathing out looking in the opposite direction. You know you’re a bit insane for getting your hopes up slightly, but you can’t help it with a comment like that.  
Why do you feel so nervous? 
“I’m going to go inside. See if I can get some more rest before class,” you assure, putting out the cigarette. You know you're running away from the conversation but Iwaizumi's comment was more complex than you wanted it to be.
------
It’s been almost a week at Oikawa’s apartment.
You thought it was going to be endlessly chaotic with lots of annoying bantering on Oikawa’s part, but it’s been quite pleasant. However, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t manage to get a good night’s rest. You blame the unfamiliar atmosphere, with the unfamiliar sounds coming from outside and the unfamiliar smell that most definitely is a ting of Oikawa’s clone. Each night you find yourself shifting around, unable to get comfortable, trying to plead yourself to sleep so you can survive another day. But even when you do fall asleep, you find yourself waking up every hour, checking the time on your phone, checking for missed calls or messages. 
Yes, you did in fact still have that sliver of hope Ushijima would reach out.
Yet, whenever the phone illuminates your face waking you up, even more, your notifications are empty. And honestly, your heart was too, yet also so heavy.
The past couple of mornings you’ve had classes later that day, you manage to sleep on and off until you had to drag yourself to campus in time.
But oh my god. Class is nothing short of boring making time feel like it’s moving alarmingly slow. You think perhaps you can get away with taking a nap, seeing as you are seated at the back of the class. Except as you’re about to, the professor designates a group assignment.
Fun. 
Gathering your stuff, you move to a desk to sit with your group members the professor assigned. As you scan the other student's faces before opening your textbook up, a small commotion at the front of the classroom distracts you. A student files in apologizing to the professor for her tardiness. At first, you don’t recognize her familiar appearance until she approaches your group to sit down across from you. But once you do, you realize you are met with the girl you never thought you’d see like this. 
The transfer student.
Infuriatingly enough, she’s pretty wearing a nicely put-together outfit with a face full of makeup perfectly applied. You notice the soft shine from her sparkly gloss as she smiles flashing her pearly whites. The atmosphere seems to shift as her smile radiates before speaking up. No wonder Ushijima has a thing for her. She's gorgeous.
“I’m Sara,” she announces. “I look forward to working with you all!”
The student beside you nudges your arm, gesturing you to introduce yourself.
“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you say softly, trying to revert your eye contact with the new member whose eyes sparkle while gazing at you. 
Then it strikes you. Does she even know who you are?
-------
Back at the apartment, Oikawa enters his room to grab his homework and textbooks. The room is a mess with clothes thrown on the floor and your belonging placed unorderly in random spots. He shoots the room with a sour look, a bit displeased seeing as he always thought you were much tidier than this. Approaching his desk, he notices your pile of clothing holding his textbooks hostage, drooped all over his desk. He starts to sweat as he slowly pries his books from under hoping the heap of clothes won’t fall. And he’s lucky for a moment until a couple of articles crash to the floor.
Oikawa sighs as he begins to pick them up to place them back on the desk. But as he grabs your jacket, he hears a small thud as cartilage hits the floor. He looks down to see what’s been dropped and spies a pack of smokes. 
He hesitantly picks them up analyzing the half-used pack unsure why it was in his pocket.
“Hey are you-- What are you doing?” Iwaizumi scolds pausing in the doorway staring at Oikawa in surprise. He looks down to where Oikawa’s eye line meets.
Oikawa turns to Iwaizumi, “She smokes?”
“Uh, no,” Iwaizumi spouts out quickly, walking up to Oikawa taking the pack away from him. “She’s holding that for me.”
“Don’t bullshit, I know you don’t smoke this brand,” he sneers, face flickering with disgust. “Why are you covering for her?”
Iwaizumi is quiet as the shame he had hoped to ignore fills him with guilt.
“Fuck,” Oikawa snaps storming out of the room.
------
“Y/N,” a voice calls out to you from behind. Class finally ended and you had rushed out in order to get back to the apartment at a decent hour. Meeting Sara really put you in a bad mood and the last thing you wanted to do was linger after class for some forced conversation. Yet when you turn around to see whose voice it was, Sara stands before you smiling.
“What do you think of going out for dinner tonight? I thought it would be a good idea for our group to get to know each other more since we will be working together for the rest of the semester…”
She’s polite and soft-spoken, a seemingly large contrast from your loud and fiery personality.
“Um, I’m not sure…”  you say after a long pause. 
“Please! It will be fun. You can even bring some friends.” she pleads, perhaps more appealing than you wanted to hear.
There’s a strange excitement to her voice that makes you feel like you need to say yes as you think about it for a moment. Her invitation must mean she doesn’t know that you are her new boyfriend’s recent ex-girlfriend of 3 days. With that in mind, your curiosity grows about what kind of person Sara is.
“What time?” you reply.
------
“I’m back,” you call into the apartment. Surprisingly, you are a bit enthusiastic to tell Oikawa and Iwaizumi about the invitation. It was your chance to spy and you knew Oikawa would definitely be down to join.
Oikawa rushes out with a stern look on his face just moments after you announce your arrival. He was ready to confront you about what he found today, but before he has a chance to you speak up.
“I have a favor to ask of you,” you say while unlacing your shoes.“I met the transfer student today, her name is Sara. I didn’t realize she’s in my class.”
Oikawa remains silent, cluing into the way you radiate as you speak; it’s been a while since he’s seen you this way. Your voice seems to chirp at a higher note and the way you’re carrying yourself seemed lighter as well.
“She asked me to go out for dinner, to get to know me better,” you threw up a couple of air quotes to mock her. “You, me and Iwaizumi, we’re going. I have to see what she’s all about.”
You look at Oikawa who still hasn’t spoken and shoot him a concerned look, “What? Did I do something?”
“Dinner? With your ex's new girlfriend?” he mutters, sounding not even remotely pleased with your explanation.
“Apparently she doesn’t know I’m his ex,” you answer coy. “Or I doubt she would have invited me.”
You may not have all the answers you want, but you sure as hell know you can find out something.
“I mean, you don’t have to come, I’m sure Iwaizumi will be fine just going with me,” you smirk.
“Uh, no I’ll come,” Oikawa responds quickly, realizing he’s going to have to keep an eye on you. Right now, you don’t know that he knows you’re smoking and maybe instead of confronting you there was another way he could stop you from continuing the bad habit. He most definitely could have brought it up now, but seeing you in a happier mood, for once, he didn’t want to ruin it.
Suddenly, the door opens behind you and Iwaizumi appears glistening in sweat from his afternoon jog. He looks like he’s glowing as he wipes the sweat from his brow and gazes at you in the entrance. “What’s going on?” 
“Y/N-chan’s exes new girl asked Y/N to go out for dinner, but we assume she doesn’t know about Y/N and Ushijima… You in?” Oikawa explains.
Iwaizumi isn’t sure he understood the entire explanation but doesn’t seem to care as he notices the stars in your eyes waiting for his response. He can tell he wants you to go.
“How much time do I have to get ready?”
------
The restaurant is lively, full of patrons talking over each other while they argue over who’s going to buy the next pitcher of beer. You feel your nerves start to explode as you check the crowded room in search of Sara and your group members. Fortunately, a hostess greets you and you ask her in regards to where a big group of people would be sitting. As you follow behind her deeper into the restaurant, the more everything starts to feel real. You are on the cusp of turning around and getting out of there. 
Did you really want to see what she was like? Were you that desperate for answers? 
But you’re too late to turn back as Sara’s face lights up when she sees you. 
“You made it!” she smiles.
But you can’t meet her with the same bright smile because right beside her is Ushijima. 
49 notes · View notes
fckinsupreme · 4 years
Text
it happened one summer - xavier plympton x fem reader
Description: Xavier tries to charm a fellow counselor, but she isn’t falling for it. She wants something serious, and believes that Xavier is after one thing. Can he convince her that he wants more than just a hook-up? 
Word count: 6k 
Warnings: Female reader, AU, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, nipple play, handjob, basically the second half of this is nothing but filth. 
A/N: Anonymous requested--Xavier trying to flirt with the new girl who goes to Redwood with his gang. She's a virgin but not stupid. She wants a serious relationship with someone more than just sex. And if this blondie only wants a regular hook up, well she's not the one. So Xavier will tried to convice her that he really wants something more with her. He thinks he's hot, but not because of her body. (Well, a little) But when he sees her zero fuck attitute he feels in love even more.
_________________________________
“Checkmate!”
You groan in defeat as Xavier Plympton claims one of your checkers, eyeing him in wide-eyed desperation. “Do I have to?”
“You know the rules, babe,” he says, gesturing toward your shirt. “Strip checkers denotes losing an article of clothing with every loss of a piece, so pay up!”
You sigh, annoyed with your own carelessness as you unbutton your blouse. A breeze passes through the ajar cabin door, the summer night air hitting your bare skin as your shirt falls to the floor. Your nipples harden inside of your bra, but luckily, the padding keeps it mostly concealed. “I thought checkmate was a chess thing, by the way?”
“Hm, don’t know,” Xavier says, licking his lips as he ogles your shirtless form. “Your turn.”
Your eyes scan the board, trying to decide a good move. The answer stares you in the face for the longest time, and you move one of your red checkers over one of his black ones when you see it. You claim the piece, eyeing his shirt with a satisfied grin. “Your turn.”
“Goddammit,” Xavier says with a chuckle, tugging his teal shirt over his head and throwing it aside.
Your cheeks heat in a hot blush at the sight of his bare torso. You knew he was fit and had a good body, but you didn’t quite realize just how built he had been. Muscles rippled beneath his skin, a slight outline of abs present on his stomach, his chest perfectly defined. Xavier has apparently noticed the color in your cheeks as you stare, a grin forming over his full lips. He laughs and flexes his biceps for you, which finally tears your gaze away with a darker flush. 
“Like what you see, babe?” Xavier asks smugly. 
“I--” you begin, cutting yourself off with a shake of your head as you watch him make a move. Luckily, he doesn’t claim any of your pieces. “Why do you flirt with me so much? It’s all you’ve done since we got here at camp.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Xavier asks with an amused grin. 
“Not really, no,” you say, making an unsuccessful move. “Enlighten me.”
“It’s because you’re beautiful,” Xavier says, surveying the board and moving his piece. “Seriously, Y/N. You’re stunning, and I don’t think you even realize it. I think you’re totally oblivious to the fact that you’re a fucking knockout, and that makes you even more beautiful.”
“What a line,” you say with a slight eye roll as you move a piece past his. He removes his shorts, and you’re unable to get a good look before he sits down. “Do you say that to all the girls you wanna get in bed with?”
“No,” he says, his tongue poking out as he claims another of your checkers. “Aha!”
You whine, slipping out of your skirt with reluctance. You feel so vulnerable, so exposed, and you aren’t too fond of that feeling. You try to cover your still-covered breasts with one arm, but to no avail. Xavier is trying so hard not to gawk, but he’s unable to help himself. For some odd reason, his staring fills you with a certain degree of rage. He certainly didn’t get angry when you were checking him out, so why be so harsh? You had a hunch as to why, but you weren’t going to vocalize it yet; mostly because it scared you to even entertain. 
“I need to get back to my cabin,” you say, rising to your feet. “This was a mistake.”
“Woah, what?” Xavier asks in surprise, brows knitted as he watches you gather your discarded clothes. “Babe--”
“Please stop calling me that,” you beg as you get dressed. “And please stop flirting with me.”
“But--” he begins, cut off as you walk out of the cabin and into the night.
******
The next morning, Xavier was at it again.
Not only did he flirt with you first thing, but he was also hitting on Montana, Brooke, and anyone else within range. Apparently it hadn’t been the first time; you’d overheard Montana telling Ray that Xavier was getting more flirtatious with her since their arrival. You felt betrayed, deceived, utterly foolish for believing that a man as beautiful as Xavier Plympton would ever want you. Your heart stung, but you made a promise to yourself not to fall for it again. It was one you intended to keep, no matter how difficult he made it. 
You ate breakfast alone, in silence. Your lone wolf status didn’t last long, however, as Xavier took a seat next to you. You scoot away, but he follows, oblivious to your anger and disappointment. Since moving isn’t working, you choose to ignore him. You eat quietly, not acknowledging his presence until he starts flirting with you once more. This time, his topic had been how the filtering of the sunlight in the cafeteria made you look angelic, and how he would love to show you Heaven sometime. 
“Stop,” you say sternly. “Just stop it, Xavier.”
“What’s wrong?” Xavier asks. 
“You’re what’s fucking wrong,” you say. “I know you’re flirting with literally every single counselor here. I fucking know I’m not the only one.”
“Y/N--” he begins, but you stop him. 
“No, fucking listen to me for once,” you say after taking a bite of bacon, and he falls silent. “I thought I was the only one. I was gonna give you a chance, but after all of that? No thanks; I’ll pass.” 
“I--” he starts, and you cut him off again.
“I’m not done,” you say angrily. “I want something serious. I want a relationship, not something where I have to contend with a man who flirts around and can’t decide who he wants. I want commitment, love, joy. Clearly, none of that is what you can give.”
“I don’t understand why that’s such a big deal,” Xavier says softly. “I--”
“You wanna know?” you ask, your voice raised a little. You lower it as a few counselors turn in your direction, not wanting to attract too much attention. “It’s a huge fucking deal to me, because I’m a virgin. Okay?”
His eyes widen at that admission, and he gapes before finding his voice. “You...what? Really?”
“Really,” you confirm. “I want my first time to be with someone special, so I haven’t experienced it yet. Wanna know why? Because all men I’ve considered always ended up being like you.”
Xavier hangs his head in shame, and when he looks at you again, his expression is remorseful. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know; I feel like such a jerk.”
“That’s because you are one,” you say, tossing your napkin onto the tray of your half-eaten meal. “So, if your objective has been trying to get in my pants, then you’re wasting your time. I’m not giving my virginity to you.”
“I do want only you,” he says, and you laugh humorlessly. “Seriously! I only flirted with the others because I thought you didn’t like me.”
“I did like you, until you threw yourself at every piece of ass here,” you spit, getting up from the table. “I’m going to shoot some arrows at the archery station. Please don’t bother following me.”
He didn’t. 
********
The next few days were quite eventful on the Xavier front. Every time you turned around, it seemed Xavier was right there with another lame tall tale. He was sorry, he would do better, he would stop flirting with others, he would spend more time with you and less with them. You rebuffed him each time, not wanting to hear another word of it. 
But then he actually did stop flirting around, and he was there to lend a sincere helping hand when you needed it. In your mind, you interpreted all of these sudden changes as him wanting to be your first. After all, most men had a secret obsession with virginal women—or not so secret, in some cases. Xavier was a playboy, there was no doubt about that. So, who’s to say that he didn’t possess the same sick need to be the one taking your virginity? You were nothing but a bragging right to him, and your anxiety & temper about it finally boiled over as the two of you swam in the lake. 
“You truly are a pretty girl,” Xavier says as you surface from a dive. “Even when doing the smallest things.”
“Can you not do this?” you beg. “Please. I came out here to cool off, not listen to more of your bullshit.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender, a wide grin on his lips. “Sorry. I just feel bad for what happened, and I wanted to show you how sorry I really am.” 
“Just don’t flirt with me,” you say. “That’s all you need to do, if you really wanna prove it to me.”
He nods with a sigh, and you float on your back. The sky is a clear, cloudless blue, so mesmerizing and also a bit terrifying. How easy it was to get lost in such an abyss and how simple it was to associate that color blue with Xavier’s eyes...Those beautiful baby blues that seemed so endless, like a vast ocean or sky that would take and take and take--
You stop yourself, taking a deep breath and plunging below the water. You allow it to carry you, swaying you gently to and fro, not sure what doing so will accomplish. Perhaps you wanted to drown the thoughts of him away, or maybe it was as simple as wanting to hide. The anger flashes through your mind again, that comment he’d made minutes earlier churning through your insides. You go up, gulping air into your lungs and pushing some hair from your eyes as you glare daggers at him. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks curiously. “What have I done now?”
“What you always do,” you say, swimming away from him. “You do realize these half-assed attempts won’t work, right? I know what your angle is.”
“And what is it?” Xavier asks irritably. “Please tell me what you think is going on in MY head.”
“You only want to try and ‘prove’ yourself so I change my mind and let you fuck me,” you spat. “It’s not working, Xavier.”
“Y/N,” Xavier says in frustration. “That’s not why! You aren’t some meaningless piece of ass to me. I know your stance; if I was gonna use you, I would have given up already. It was clear that you wouldn’t change your mind, so it wouldn’t have been worth it to keep trying.”
“I call bullshit,” you say, climbing out of the lake and shaking water from your ears. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe it.” 
You look back at him as you grab your towel. He’s quiet, but the expression on his face was akin to a man in love. The glint in his eyes, the awestruck look, the dopey grin. You can’t stop the laugh that rips from your chest at the sight, but as you walk away, your heart pangs at the thought of what it may mean.
This wasn’t going to be easy, was it? 
***********
A couple days after the lake incident, the counselors gathered at the dock to enjoy a barbecue and some sunbathing. That is, all the counselors except you; you took up the offer to clean Margaret’s cabin. Anything that kept you away from Xavier was exactly what you needed. It wasn’t that he was bothering you; you were past that point now. In fact, you actually wanted to see him more, after seeing the lovestruck expression on his face days earlier. But you told yourself you wouldn’t get attached or fall for him any harder; it would only end in a heartbreak that you possibly couldn’t recover from.
You begin dusting Margaret’s mantel when you hear Xavier at the front door. “Y/N?”
Your blood runs cold, and you swallow hard past the lump in your throat. “Yeah?” you manage, poking your head into the front room.
“I had to come and see you,” Xavier says, wringing his hands anxiously. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but all I’m asking is that you hear me out. Okay?”
You sigh, sitting behind her desk as you dust your hands off. “You can try, but no promises that I’ll believe you.”
He nods in understanding, taking a deep breath. “Listen, I know you think that I’m only after you for sex. I know you think I’m lying when I say that isn’t true, but I honestly don’t want you just for that reason. I truly think that you’re beautiful and that you’re the best girl I’ve ever met. You’re all I’ve thought about from the moment we met, and as much as I wish you would get out of my head, it won’t happen. I don’t care that you’re a virgin; I like you for you. I flirted with the others, because I didn’t wanna fall deeply for you. I know you’d never go for a guy like me. Why would you? A goddess like you is way out of my league, anyway.”
“Xavier--” you begin, but he cuts you off. 
“I’m not done,” he says, taking another deep breath. “I know I screwed up by being too flirty, but I’m determined to make it up to you. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I’m telling the truth. I really am sorry, and knowing that I hurt you causes me pain, too. I just...I’m an idiot and I really screwed up. I didn’t know what a good thing I was losing. It’s just something I’m always going to have to live with, and I hope you can forgive me someday.” 
You’re silent, staring at him in astonishment. Xavier, apparently taking this as the worst possible sign, turns to leave. Before he can, though, you rest a hand on his arm to stop him. The realization that he’s telling the truth hits you full force, and you can’t just let him walk away. The efforts he took to find you and come clean, to pour his heart out...If he truly was after sex, it wouldn’t have occured to him to do any of it. He would have kept persisting, but this? It wasn’t the standard, run-of-the-mill player nonsense. It was genuine. 
“Wait,” you whisper, eyes flicking to meet his. “Please don’t go.”
“But--” he begins.
Before he can formulate a complete response, your lips press to his in a soft, chaste kiss. It’s quicker than you intended, but you hope he received the message loud & clear. He melts against your lips, the hint of a smile on his own as you draw back. The faintness of his grin fades quickly, replaced by a frown as he shakes his head. You can still feel the soft plumpness of his lips on yours, an electric tingle charging through them and settling between your legs. You look at him in confusion as he stares at the ground, wondering what’s going through his mind. Finally, he speaks it. 
“Don’t kiss me unless you mean it,” he begs. “Please, Y/N.” 
“I do mean it,” you assure him, brushing your fingers through the hair on the side of his head. “I really do. I know you’re being honest, Xavier. It took a lot of effort and I know you wouldn’t have bothered if you didn’t mean it. It’s too much to put yourself through for a single day of sex, and you know my stance. But you didn’t give up, and that’s how I know you mean it.”
The grin that forms on Xavier’s face threatens to split it in half. His hands land on your waist, coaxing you toward him until your chest is flush to his. He brushes hair from either side of your face with both of his hands, cupping your jaw and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. He slowly comes in for another kiss, his warm, inviting lips finding yours once more. Your eyes slip closed, and an overwhelming urge to deepen the kiss washes over you. Your tongue trails over his lips after a moment, and you can feel him withdrawing. You whine in protest, but he shakes his head in response.
“Do you really want this?” Xavier asks, nervously chewing on his lower lip. “If you aren’t ready, then we don’t have to. Please don’t feel pressured, okay?”
“I do want it,” you say. “I really do. I wouldn’t be engaging you if I didn’t. I want it, Xavier; I want you.”
“I won’t let you down or break your heart,” Xavier promises. “You have my word on that.”
“I know,” you say, closing the space between you and sealing your lips to his again. 
The kiss immediately deepens, with Xavier’s tongue swiping past yours as he grips the back of your neck. His lips taste of peppermint and a faint hint of citrus, and the combination is dizzying. It makes you crave more of him, and you lick the roof of his mouth as he shivers slightly. He backs you up, drawing away long enough to lead you to Margaret’s bed. He places you on the mattress, lips connecting to yours again. Your hands explore his back and torso, wanting to take in every single inch that’s accessible to you.
“Mmm,” he hums, mouth trailing over your jaw and down your neck. “Is it okay if I start taking your clothes off?”
“Yes,” you say, nuzzling against his scalp. “Go ahead.”
“You’re sure?” Xavier asks, and you chuckle as you give him a playful swat. “Ow!”
“It’s really fine,” you say. “If something is wrong, I’ll tell you. I swear.”
He tugs you up, lifting your shirt over your head and discarding it. He studies you, the way your chest heaves, the way you’re already reaching for him in anticipation, and he kisses you with such passion that it sends electricity throughout your body. You grab his shirt next, and as soon as you fist it, he stops the kiss to remove it. You take in every line of muscle with your fingers, relishing in the way he shudders beneath your touch. His lips attach to your neck again, leaving featherlight kisses all over your skin. You moan loudly as he kisses the area between your neck & shoulder, which prompts him to press his mouth even harder against that same spot.
“Shit, that feels so good,” you gasp, and you can feel him grinning against your neck. 
“You’ll be surprised what feels good, babe,” he breathes, dragging his teeth along your neck and under your jaw. “I’ll show you.”
“Please,” you beg, grabbing his belt and unfastening it clumsily. “I want you to show me everything.”
“I will,” he promises. “I’ll be slow and gentle.”
“I trust you,” you say, gripping his hair as he kisses your collarbones. “Wholeheartedly.”
“What a pleasant turn of events,” Xavier jokes, winking as he coaxes your hips upward. “Lift yourself up, baby.”
You do as you’re told, allowing Xavier to remove your shorts. Xavier kisses you again as he throws them aside, his tongue pressing to yours as he runs a hand from your side to your hip. Your fingers fumble with his zipper, and after what seems to take forever, you get his pants unbuttoned. You shove them down as far as you can manage, and he kicks them to the floor. The two of you make out a little, with your bra & panties coming off along the way. When you remove his boxers, you both sit back to admire each other’s exposed bodies. Xavier’s cock is far bigger than you imagined, and you chew your lip anxiously as you wonder how much it’s going to hurt. Xavier, seemingly picking up on your anxiety, gives you a gentle, reassuring kiss.
“I’ll be cautious and I’ll make sure you’re ready,” he assures. “Can I just say, though...Your body is fucking perfect, Y/N. Perfect tits, perfect pussy, perfect everything.”
You blush a little, and Xavier begins kissing over your breasts. He explores every inch, pulling your nipple between his teeth. He’s very careful, but the sensation is one you’ve never felt before. It’s so good that your eyes flutter closed, a soft mewl falling from your lips as he starts sucking. Your noises grow in volume, your cunt throbbing as fresh arousal pools between your legs. His hand caresses your thigh, a violent shiver rolling down your spine as he touches a particularly sensitive area. He alternates, switching to the opposite nipple and giving it the same treatment as the other. You tug his hair, arching a little against the new, unfamiliar sensations coursing through your body. 
“Xavier,” you mewl, eyes closed as he starts massaging your tits. He presses them together, burying his face in your chest and inhaling your scent. You giggle as he leaves small hickeys between them, the light marks soon darkening as his tongue runs over one nipple again. “It feels so nice.”
“I know something that’s gonna feel even better,” Xavier says, kissing down your stomach. 
“What is it?” you question, sitting up on your elbows to get a good look at him.
“Eating your pussy,” he says, pulling you down a little as he settles between your legs. “You know what that is, don’t you?”
“Duh,” you say with a chuckle, biting back a moan as he kisses the top of your mound. “I’m not totally clueless, but I want you to do it. I want it so fucking much.”
“And you’ll get it,” he tells you, opening your legs a little further to observe your soaked cunt.
You take in the sight, just drinking it up. His pretty blue eyes fixated on your face as he presses the most delicate kisses to your inner thighs. The way his breath fans over your skin. The way his hair tickles your thighs, his earring catching the light as his strong arms grip your legs. It’s an image you never want to lose, and one you wanted burned into your mind forever. If he would ever leave you, God forbid...you wanted to memorize every last detail.
“Are you ready?” Xavier asks, running his tongue slowly along your groin.
“I’ve been ready,” you breathe, whining as he licks the opposite side. “Please, do it.”
Xavier gently opens your legs a bit further, two of his fingers parting your inner lips before running his tongue through them. The sensation that his wet, silky tongue leaves behind is nothing short of incredible, and it’s much better than you ever imagined. He hums as your taste floods his mouth, his eyes slipping closed as he relishes in it. You shiver as his tongue flicks your clit, the touch so soft and light that you almost couldn’t register it. His arms remain around your thighs, his large hands gripping the areas above your knees. As his lips brush over each side of your pussy, his thumbs caress the hollows of your knees as a bit of reassurance, calming your nerves even more.
“How are you doing?” Xavier asks, sucking your left lip. “Good?”
“Very good,” you confirm, playing with the little stray piece of hair on his forehead. “I love it so much. Please don’t stop.”
“I won’t unless you tell me to,” Xavier says, massaging the same area with his tongue as his fingers trail through your slick, messy cunt. “Do you mind if I finger you?”
“No, go ahead,” you say, crying out in pleasure as his finger slowly pushes inside, stopping only when he’s in to the last knuckle. “Xavier...That...It’s amazing.”
“I know, baby,” he coos, working his finger against your sweet spot as he laps ast your clit. “I know.”
You arch instinctively as he curls his finger, and the mixed sensations of that & his tongue send jolts up your spine. His eyes never leave your face, wanting to see your reactions and how your body moves in response, and it occurs to you that he’s doing as you had moments ago. He wants to keep this memory, in case he cannot have it again after today. But you already know that he didn’t need to worry, just as you, unknowingly, didn’t need to worry about it, either. 
“Can I add another finger?” Xavier asks gently, kissing along your outer labia. “Or would that be too much?”
“Try it,” you say. “If it’s too much, I’ll tell you.”
He nods, carefully adding a second finger. It doesn’t hurt, but you feel fuller than before. It isn’t too unpleasant, but it does feel a little odd at first. Every time you touched yourself in the past, it was more clitoral stimulation than fingering, so it was a little weird with someone else doing it for you. Besides, his fingers were longer and thicker than yours, which only added to the foreign sensation they left. You clench instinctively, and he groans lowly against your clit in response.
“You’re so beautiful,” Xavier rasps, his free hand snaking up your side and landing on one of your breasts. “The most beautiful girl in the world.”
You’re so lost in pleasure that you don’t even roll your eyes at his comment, instead feeling a familiar tightness in your lower belly. The way he’s sucking on your clit, pumping his fingers, and playing with your breast are enough to tip you, but you aren’t ready to fall yet. You want to prolong it as much as possible, to savor it. Who knows how long it would be until you could have it again, especially with Margaret and her bullshit “no sex” rules. Knowing Xavier, however, he would find a way.
But would he find a way with you again?
You shake those thoughts from your head, bringing yourself back to present. Xavier’s fingers rub against your G-spot, just as his lips envelop your clit again. He shakes his head rapidly back & forth, applying more pressure with his mouth. He swipes his thumb over your hard nipple, pinching in time with his tongue. You don’t have time to warn him that you’re cumming, your orgasm washing over you and casting you into a pleasurable abyss. You gush all over his fingers, his name spilling from your lips as you close your eyes while the high takes you. You’d given yourself many orgasms over the years, but this was much better by far. There was just something about having someone do it for you that was intoxicating, and you crave more already. You were so sensitive, however, that just the feeling of him dragging his nose through your folds brings pain. 
Xavier pulls his fingers out, drawing his head away as you shove it. “Are you okay, babe?” 
“I’m amazing,” you breathe. “Just a little sensitive, that’s all.”
“Not bad for your first time, huh?” Xavier asks as he slowly climbs up your body.
“Not at all,” you breathe, tugging him down for a hot kiss. You can taste your pussy on his mouth, his lips still slick with your juices before you lick it away. “You’re fucking good at that.”
“You’re just saying that because you have nothing to compare it to,” Xavier teases, his lashes fluttering as you close your hand around his erection. “Oh fuck, baby…”
His cock feels heavy in your hand, and pleasantly warm as you glide your hand up and down. It takes you a second to get a proper rhythm, and Xavier is happy to help you. He places his hand on yours, guiding you, showing you how it’s done. You take in every ridge, every bit of skin, every motion, getting used to how he feels before he fucks you. You’re a little nervous, but at the same time, you can’t wait. You trust Xavier, you know he’s going to be careful, but there’s still part of you that’s scared.
“Fuck,” Xavier hisses, peering at you with a soft smile. “Are you ready?”
You nod, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly to try and calm your nerves. “I am. Just...go slow, okay?”
“I promise I will,” Xavier says, rubbing his cock through your folds to help you adjust to the feel. “On three.”
You count down, and Xavier begins pushing inside. A burning, tearing pain sears through your core, and you wince as you squeeze your eyes shut. The pressure is intense, unpleasant, and you worry that you won’t be able to do this after all. Xavier stops immediately, not going any further yet. You wonder if there’s blood and how much, but the thought is so scary that you push it away quickly. This was supposed to be fun and enjoyable, not something to fear. However, the pain is so great that it takes you away from any other thought. It makes focusing on pleasure a little difficult, but you trust Xavier and the process. 
“Does it hurt too much, baby?” Xavier questions, kissing over your neck in a soothing manner. “Should I stop?”
“No, I’m okay,” you assure him. “It hurts, but I don’t want you to stop.”
He nods, kissing you tenderly before continuing to slowly push inside of you. It’s still painful, so he stops occasionally to give you more time to adjust. But soon, the uncomfortable pressure begins to dissipate, and you can feel every little bit of him. He’s probably in halfway now--or a little over that, but it’s all you can take. He’s massive, and you can’t accommodate all of him right now, but that’s fine with you. What you’re already feeling is nothing short of incredible, and is far from what you imagined in the best way possible. Pain was temporary; your focus was on the present, and it was perfect now. 
“How are you feeling?” Xavier asks as he gazes into your eyes. “Is it still really painful?”
“No, I’m better now,” you say, kissing him hotly before clenching around him. It feels so strange, but it’s a good strange. “Please go deeper; I think I can take it.”
Xavier inches in a bit deeper, getting a little more progress before you stop him. Tears prickle at your eyes as fresh pain rips through your core, and Xavier shakes his head. “That’s enough for now, babe. I’m in far enough, don’t worry.”
You open your mouth to tell him that you’re fine, but he gives that first slow, shallow thrust and you soon forget. A moan slips from your lips, and you cling to him as he sets a careful pace. He keeps the slow rhythm, not daring to speed up in fear of hurting you. He looks into your eyes, not wavering his gaze as his muscular arms flex with every move he makes. One of your hands grips his back, the other holding the base of his neck to pull him down for a kiss. The pain is slowly melting away, replaced by the most overwhelming ecstasy you’ve ever felt. 
“Fuck, I can’t get over how good you feel,” Xavier breathes, pressing tender kisses to your cheeks and jawline. “You’re so tight, so wet.”
“I guess the tightness was to be expected,” you tease, forehead against his as he comes up for another kiss. 
“It was,” he says against your lips, smiling as he begins breathing heavily. He’s still set at a slow, romantic pace, but you’re in no hurry to make him go faster. “Baby…”
“Xavier,” you whine, his lips attaching to your upper chest as he hums lowly. 
“You’re doing so well,” he praises. “You’re taking my cock so well, babe. I knew you could; I think you were really meant for me.”
“Strangely, I do, too,” you say, head falling back with a moan as he hits directly into the spot that makes you see stars. “Shit, do that again.”
Xavier thrusts against that spot once more, and you dig into his back momentarily. He moans softly at the feeling of your nails in his skin, hooking your legs over his waist to hit at a deeper angle. Another burning sensation tears through you, but it isn’t as bad or long-lasting as the first had been. He brings your lips to his in a heated, passionate kiss, conveying all emotion into it. If it hadn’t already been clear how he felt for you, that one kiss would have sealed the deal.
Xavier Plympton was going to be the death of you, wasn’t he?”
“I love how well you’re handling this,” Xavier says. “You’re so fucking good, babe. I’m gonna take even better care of you, okay? I promise.”
You smile, but it’s soon wiped from your face as you turn toward the front door. No one is there, but the fact that Margaret could return at any minute made your blood run cold. You pull Xavier’s face toward yours with a worried expression, but he doesn’t seem to notice your concern.
“Xav, what if Margaret comes back?” you ask anxiously. “We’ve been here for awhile.”
“She won’t,” Xavier assures. “It’s gonna be okay. I overheard her saying that she was going to town for supplies and would be gone all day. She left Trevor and Bertie in charge.”
“I’d be surprised if the camp is still standing when she gets back,” you joke, gripping his back a little tighter as his lips find your nipple. “Mmm…”
Xavier reaches down, rubbing your clit as your body tenses. He takes it as a painful reaction, slowly removing his hand before you grab his wrist to stop him. You shake your head, placing his hand back on your clit and holding it there as he grins. He presses his forehead to yours, gazing into your eyes as you both moan hotly. You nuzzle against him as his thrusts gain speed, and all initial discomfort is soon forgotten. Your head tips back, eyes shut for a moment before they snap open when he growls lowly. 
“Fuck,” he hisses. “I never want this to end.”
“I don’t, either,” you admit. “Even if Margaret does walk in, I don’t want you to stop.”
“She won’t,” Xavier says. “Even if she did, what is she gonna do? Make us clean the whole camp? It would be so worth it!” 
“Please keep doing that,” you beg, pushing against his hand for emphasis. “I’m getting really close.”
“Me too, baby,” Xavier whispers, one hand still working aa he uses the other for balance. “You’re sure it’s okay to cum inside of you?”
“Yes,” you say. “As long as it’s okay with you.”
“You first,” Xavier says, rubbing your clit in harder, faster circles. “Come on, baby. I know you want to.”
You almost roll your eyes, but you’re too lost in your pleasure to care about his comment. One more sharp thrust and a couple more swipes to your clit send the coil loose, tipping you over the edge into bliss. You cum the hardest you ever have before--including earlier--scratching down his back hard enough to draw a little blood. You cry out his name, your orgasm washing over you in a long wave. It feels like you’re drowning, your head spinning, your breath stolen, his sweaty body still pressed to yours.
Xavier cums after, and a new warmth soon spreads inside of you. You can barely register it, but it feels amazing nonetheless as he gently bites your neck. His cock twitches as he finishes, pulling out to collapse next to you. Some of his seed drips from your pussy, gathering onto the bed below. You’re both panting, lying there as you try to collect yourselves. The smell of sex and crisp summer air billow around the room, but neither of you are bothered. You’re too absorbed in the afterglow to care.
After a few moments of silence, Xavier scoops you in his arms. He hugs your sticky, slightly shaky body to his, lips pressing to the top of your head. “I don’t wanna let you go, Y/N.”
“Who says you have to?” you ask, looking up at him with a smile. “You don’t have to, you know.”
“Good,” Xavier says, running a finger down your cheek. “Because I really don’t want to.”
“Thank you so much for making my first time so special,” you say as you kiss his cheek. “I’m really glad that this happened, Xavier. I mean it, and I’m sorry I was so cold before. You were such a gentleman, and I’m sorry I ever doubted that.”
“It’s okay,” Xavier says. “It’ll get better after the first time. It’s never the most pleasant, but it’s smooth sailing after that. So I’ve heard.”
“I thought it went well enough,” you say as you gaze up at him. “But I can’t wait to do it again.”
“We have all summer, babe,” Xavier says joyously. “Beyond that, too!”
You chuckle, rolling him onto his back as you kiss him hungrily. For the first time since arriving at Camp Redwood, you found yourself excited for the remainder of the summer. While the two of you had sex again--this time far more satisfactory than last--you couldn’t help but feel happy for everything ahead. 
______________
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